HISTORY 



TOWN OF ESSEX, 



FROM 1634 TO 1700 



ROBERT CROWELL, D. D. 



PASTOR 07 THE CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH IN E88KS. 



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:w-£L£25s: 



BOSTON: 

C. C. p. MOODY. PRINTER, 52 WASHINGTON ST. 
1853. 



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PREFACE 



In the following work, the reader, it is presumed, 
will readily distinguish between the facts of history, 
and the drapery, in which some of them occasionally 
appear. Man is no less a reality, for the dress he may 
be supposed to have worn, according to the fashion of 
his day. Nor is it difficult to distinguish between the 
man, and his apparel. 

If this be borne in mind, the nature of this httle 
work, as, in part, a history of the town, will not be 
diminished by the few fancy sketches given of do- 
mestic, nautical, and military life ; which, however, are 
still designed to be true to nature, and in accordance 
with the history of the times. 

For a number of the facts in this history, drawn 
from ancient records, the author is indebted to the 
Rev. J. B, Felt's History of Ipswich; a work which 
cannot be too highly valued as a book of reference on 
all the important transactions and events connected 
with this town. This general acknowledgment, the 
author trusts, will be deemed sufficient, without a 
more particular reference to that work. 



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HISTORY OF ESSEX. 



The first settlement of this town commenced 
in 1634. Plymouth began to be settled in 1620. 
Salem, 1627. Boston, 1630, and Ipswich, 1633. 

Our ancestors originally came from different 
parts of England. The reasons assigned for 
leaving their own country, and settling in a 
wilderness, were, " That the ancient faith and 
true worship might be found inseparable com- 
panions in their practice, and that their posterity 
might be undefiled in religion."^ 

Soon after the commencement of the Kefor- 
mation in England, 1534, the Protestants were 
divided into two parties : the one adhering to 
Luther, the other to Calvin. The former chose 
to secede from the church of Eome in a very 
gradual manner, while the latter were desirous of 
affecting an entire reformation at once. They 
contended earnestly for the " scripture purity," 
in worship, as well as in doctrine. This, to- 
gether with their gravity of deportment and 

* Morse and Parish's Hist, of N. E. 



6 



pious conversation, obtained for them the name 
of Puritans. 

The Lutheran party, however, prevailed, and 
their sentiments were made the basis of the Es- 
tabUshed, or National Church. With this church 
the Puritans continued in fellowship many 
years, although they constantly lamented its 
popish forms, and sighed for a thorough refor- 
mation. 

At length, in 1602, a number of them for- 
mally separated from the Established Church, 
and set up for themselves a more pure form of 
worship. The consequence was, a violent and 
cruel persecution of them by the bishops and 
authorities of the land. Not suffered to live in 
peace where they were, nor permitted to depart, 
they endured many hardships and trials. 

But in 1607, a considerable number of them 
succeeded in leaving their country, and removed, 
some to Amsterdam, and some to Leyden, in 
Holland, prieved with the corrupt examples 
around them, and fearing lest their children 
should be contaminated therewith, they resolved 
on a removal to the desolate regions of North 
America. 

Accordingly, in 1620, August 5th, they em- 
barked at Delft-Haven, near Leyden, and, in 
November following, arrived on the bleak and 



barren shores of Cape Cod. Here they anch- 
ored for a short time only, and in the following 
month removed to a place which they called 
Plymouth. 

The persecution still continuing in England, 
and, in addition to the former corruptions of the 
Church, a " Book of Sports on the Holy Sabbath 
of God " being required to be read by the minis- 
ters of their respective assemblies, great num- 
bers of others, eminent for their piety, talents, 
and learning, embarked for this country. 

In 1627, Capt. John Endicott, with about one 
hundred persons, arrived at Naumkeag, after- 
wards Salem. In June, of the following year, 
they were joined by two hundred more, under 
the ministry of the Rev. Messrs. Higginson, Skel- 
ton, and Bright. A part of these soon after 
removed, and beo-an the settlement of Charles- 
town. 

In the summer of 1630, about fifteen hundred 
persons, with Governor Winthrop at their head, 
arrived at Salem ; whence they proceeded to 
Charlestown, and soon settled Boston, Water- 
town, and Roxbury. 

" In March, 1633, J. Winthrop, a son of the 
Governor, with twelve men, began a plantation 
at Agawam; which afterwards was called Ips- 
wich, The next year, a church was gathered, 



being the ninth in the colony. In April, the 
people being destitute of a minister, the Governor 
travelled on foot from Boston to Ipsivich, spent the 
Sabbath with them, and exercised by way of 
prophecy "^ or exhortation. 

In 1634, the Rev. Nathaniel Ward came over 
from England, and became their first minister. 
The same year William White and Goodman 
Bradstreet removed toward Chebacco river, 
where lands were granted them by the town. 
Thus commenced the first settlement of this 
town in 1634. History gives us no account of 
these two families. The name of William White 
is first met with in 1635, in the transactions of 
Ipswich, as one of its inhabitants. So also are 
several of the name of Bradstreet : but which 
of them settled in this part of Ipswich, is uncer- 
tain. The land, which these first two settlers 
occupied, lay in what is now the north part of 
Essex. 

The next year, October, 1635, Mr. John Cogs- 
well had three hundred acres granted him by 
the town, " in the farther part of Chebacco." 
This grant was bounded on the west by what is 
now the main road from Ipswich to Gloucester, 
and the brook which runs on the east side of 

Hist, of New England. 



9 



the old burying ground^ and the creek running 
to the river y on the south by the river ; on the 
east by the water^ and on the north by the 
brook which runs on the north side of the farm 
now owned by Col. John P. Choate. 

Mr. Cogswell, before his emigration, was a 
prosperous merchant in London. He sailed for 
this country from Bristol, England, May 23, 
1635, in the ship Angel Gabriel. On his passage 
he was wrecked in a violent storm on the coast 
of Maine, in Pemaquid Bay. By this catas- 
trophe, he lost a part of his property; but 
escaped safely to land with his family, where 
they lived for a short time in a tent. Leaving 
his family in the tent, he took passage for Bos- 
ton, where he procured a vessel denominated a 
barque, commanded by Captain Gallop, and 
returned to Pemaquid Bay for his family and 
goods. He arrived at Ipswich in August, and 
removed to this place in the following October. 
His furniture, and other goods, were more than 
could be stored at one time in the vessel, from 
Pemaquid to Ipswich. From an inventory taken 
at his decease, it appears that his furniture, 
brought from England, consisted of beds, suits 
of curtains, table-linen, damasks, Turkey car- 
pets, silver plate, &c. His wife's name was 
Elizabeth. Their children were born in London ; 



10 



one was buried there, and the remaining seven 
William, John, Edward, Mary, Hannah, Abigail, 
and Sarah, they brought with them to this place. 
He had the title of Mr., and his wife Mrs., which 
were given only to persons of some distinction. 

Their daughter Mary, married Godfrey Armi- 
tage. Hannah, Charles Waldo, and removed to 
Chelmsford. Abigail, Thomas Clark ; and Sarah, 
Simon Tuthill. 

Their first house, which was of necessity built 
of logs, stood, as tradition says, about thirty 
rods south-east of the house now occupied by 
Col. J. P. Choate. 

Other settlers arrived, no doubt, soon after 
this. But we have no record even of their 
names, as residents of this part of Ipswich. Mr. 
Felt, in his History of Ipswich, in general, gives 
a valuable table of the names of the early set- 
tlers, with the year in which these names are 
first met with in the town records ; but which, 
of course, does not specify in what part of the 
town they lived. Among the names which are 
known to have been long prevalent in this place, 
are the following: 1634, John Perkins. 1635, 
Robert Andrews, Wm. Goodhue, George Gid- 
dings. 1638, John Burnham. 1639, Andrew 
Story. 1643, Thomas Low, 1648, John Choate. 
The presumption is, that these were among the 



11 



early settlers of this southern section of Ipswich, 
called by the Indians, Chebacco. 

Owing to the difficulty of making bridges in 
those early days, the roads were very circuitous, 
avoiding, as much as possible, the crossing of 
brooks and creeks. The road from Ipswich 
through this place to Gloucester, came by the 
house now occupied by Darius Cogswell, at the 
head of Choate's brook, entered the present 
Ipswich road, and proceeded as far as the lane, 
which leads to Col. J. P. Choate's, which it en- 
tered, and passed on to the river by the house 
of Adam Boyd ; crossed the river by ferry, pro- 
ceeded in a southerly direction over the hills, to 
the head of Clark's Creek, thence by the present 
dwelling of Elias Andrews, thence to Gloucester 
West Parish, along by the site of the first meet- 
ing house to a ferry, which crossed to the up — 
in town parish, then the first parish in Glouces- 
ter.^ 

Visit to the First Settlers. 

Leaving for awhile this dry, but necessary 
detail of facts, yet still keeping close to the lines 
of truth, let me invite you to go back two hun- 
dred years, and survey the place as it then 



* For evidence that the first road to Gloucester went by this dwelling cf 
Elias Andrews, see John Burnham''s deed, near the close of this volume. 



n 



was, and look in upon the settlers, and see how 
they managed in doors and out. The first house 
which you visit, is that of Mr. Cogswell. View- 
ing the building as you approach it, you per- 
ceive it is built wholly of logs, in a square form, 
much as children build a house of cobs; the 
under and upper sides of the logs being roughly 
hewn, that they may lie somewhat contiguous, 
and not admit too many of the rays of the sun, 
or too much of the keen air of winter, the 
ends are notched to fasten them together, and 
the roof covered with thatch. The whole build- 
ing, as it presents itself to your view, appears to 
be from twenty to thirty feet square. You 
knock at the door, and it is opened by Mrs. C, 
who gives you a frank and hearty reception. 
You are somewhat surprised to see in your 
maternal ancestor, not a Yankee, but an English 
face, — round, staid, and easy, and not like her 
posterity, sharp, busy, and careworn. Her man- 
ners are English of the best stamp, for she has 
moved in good society at home, though not 
among the nobility. Her dress is neat and 
handsome ; of the fashion of the times, though 
to your view exceedingly antiquated. Her whole 
appearance, and the appearance of the furniture, 
contrasts somewhat strangely with the rude ap- 
pearance of the rough logs -, of which the floor^ 



18 



as well as the walls of the houseware built. You 
look up and .see the naked poles of the roof, and 
the thatch which lies upon them. At the end of 
the building, opposite the door, is the fire place, 
constructed of rough stones, the smoothest and 
best that could be found in their natural state. 
In front of a huge back-log, eight or ten feet in 
length, is a bright and glowing fire, sending forth 
tremendous heat from sticks proportioned in 
size and length to the log behind. You plant 
your chair midway between the fire and the 
door, and can hardly tell by which you are most 
annoyed, the rushing of the winds through the 
crevices of the logs in your rear, or the irre- 
sistible heat h\ front. But by often twisting and 
turning, you contrive to maintain your position 
between such opposite and powerful foes. Dur- 
ing the conversation with Mrs. C, and her four 
interesting daughters, all busy with their knitting, 
you glance occasionally at the objects around 
you. On one side of the house, you observe 
some handsome curtains, stretched quite across, 
which, with one at right angles in the middle, 
form two bed rooms, one in each corner of that 
side of the house. The chairs in the sitting- 
room, or kitchen, are but few, on account of the 
difficulty of bringing them across the deep. But 
seats are supplied by the numerous trunks and 
2 



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boxes, in whicli they transported their beds, bed- 
ding, clothing, table linen, damasks, and carpets. 
As the floor is too rough for their Turkey- 
wrought carpets, they remain yet unpacked. 
But the time for supper draws near, and Mrs. C. 
and her eldest daughter are busy in preparing 
the repast. The old English kettle is hung 
over the fire, with contents for a plentiful supper 
of bean broth, to which, as you are a visitor, a 
nice cake of Indian homony is added,- — which 
Mrs. C. contrives to bake by cautiously approach- 
ing the glowing fire with her face more than 
half turned away, to preserve her eyes. Pres- 
ently the father, with two of his sons, come in 
from their field labor. Harvesting has com- 
menced, and they are reaping the first fruits of 
their toil in the wilderness. They have not yet 
wholly lost the delicate appearance resulting 
from city life and manners ; though the perils of 
the ocean, and the hardships of the wilderness, 
have done something to give them a darker hue, 
and more athletic appearance. 

Labor in the open air, in the cool season of 
autumn, has given them a keen appetite. The 
table is now set for the social meal, covered with 
elegant table linen, and spread with basons of 
pewter, and spoons of silver. The broth is poured 
into an elegant vase, from which each is sup- 



15 



plied by a silver ladle. The family gather 
around, and §tand with reverence while the head 
of the family craves a blessing from the Author 
of all their mercies. 

Supper being ended, and the table removed, 
all are seated for the evening ; the females near 
the light of a pine torch, for the purpose of sew- 
ing and knitting, and the males around the room 
at their pleasure. 

A neighbor calls in to spend a social hour. 
We will suppose it to be Goodman Bradstreet. 
The conversation turns at once on the latest 
news from their fatherland, where they have left 
many dear friends, and in the government and 
prosperity of which, they yet feel a most tender 
and lively interest. Does king Charles still con- 
tinue his despotic course, despoiling his subjects 
of their dearest rights, and provoking them to 
insurrection and civil war ? Is Archbishop Laud 
as full of bitterness, and persecution towards the 
Puritans as ever ? are questions eagerly asked, 
and answered affirmatively, in sad tones, from 
the testimony of those who have recently ar- 
rived. From the discussion of English politics, 
they turn to their own local affairs, and touch 
upon the apparently peaceable disposition of 
their savage neighbors, whose wigwams are close 
at hand ; the danger that would arise from their 



16 



getting possession of knives and fire-arms, the 
dangers already existing from the ferocious 
beasts of the woods near by ; the difficulty of 
preventing cattle and sheep from being devoured 
by them ; the difficulty, too, of cultivating the 
soil while the stumps are so thick^ and there are 
only two ploughs for the use of the whole town. 
With joy and gratitude they advert to the good- 
ness of God, in prospering their crops of Indian 
corn and English grain ; preserving their lives 
and health, amidst so many exposures; and 
allowing them the inestimable privileges of civil 
and religious freedom, even in the solitude and 
perils of the wilderness. 

When Goodman Bradstreet has retired, and 
the evening is well-nigh spent, the good man of 
the house takes the family Bible, and reads from 
it aloud those sacred truths, which at their Lon- 
don fireside had been their comfort and support ; 
which had cheered them on the stormy ocean, 
and were now their consolation and joy ; and 
then Avith much fervency, offers the evening 
sacrifice of prayer and praise, while all stand 
round in the silent and solemn attitude of wor- 
ship. 

You are then shown to your lodging for the 
night, — the bed reserved for visitors, enclosed 
with curtains to exclude the night air, and the 



IT 



too early light of the morning. As you lie upon 
your pillow,- curiosity prompts you to draw 
aside the curtain, and take a peep through the 
shrunk logs ; a beautiful bright star meets your 
eye with many others less brilliant. The woods 
resound with the hideous veils of beasts : among- 
which the howling of a pack of wolves is pre- 
dominant, and waxes louder and louder, till they 
seem at length to be close by your bed. With 
the bleating of the sheep, the bellowing of the 
cattle, and the barking of the stout mastiffs in 
the yard, all is bustle, stir, and alarm. The 
familv is in motion. Mr. Coo:swell and his eldest 
son seize their rifles, and discharge them in quick 
succession at the door. The flashing of the 
powder, and the strange report of the guns soon 
start off the savage pack ; not, however, without 
taking with them one or two poor sheep, partly 
devoured. 

After a refreshing night's sleep, you rise with 
the morning sun, and breakfast and family wor- 
ship being ended, you walk out to survey the 
wood-land scenery. A dense forest of birch, 
oak, chesnut, and maple, the growth of centuries, 
meets your eye in every direction. Here and 
there you see a cleared spot, which the Indians 
have burned away, and use for growing corn, 
or which the new settlers have cleared up for 
2^ 



18 



tillage. The road before you, towards the river, 
winds about, to avoid the larger stumps, and on 
the low and muddy parts of it, the straight por- 
tions of small trees are laid, covered here and 
there with a little earth, or with plenty of soft 
brush. You look over on your right into one of 
the cornfields, leaning as you look, not on sub- 
stantial stone walls, but on such slender fencing 
of poles, and brush, as the necessity of the times 
permits, and wonder that amidst such a multi- 
tude of burnt stumps, any thing can be made to 
grow by ploughing, or spading the earth. 

Following an Indian foot-path, through the 
forest, you come out at a wide plot of ground, 
where are some dozen wigwams, clustered on the 
sunny side of a hill, which overlooks the marsh 
and Chebacco river. As you approach their 
huts with the measured step and cautious eye, 
which the sight of a savage always inspires, you 
hesitate whether to go forward, or turn back. 
But curiosity prevails, and you begin to examine 
their premises. Their wigwams are made of 
bark, fastened by strong wdths to poles driven 
into the earth, in a broad circle at the bottom, 
and brought nearly together at the top, to save 
the necessity of making a roof Leaving a hole 
at the top for the smoke to escape, the fire is 
kindled in the centre beneath ; around which, 



19 



on the ground, the indolent men are lying or 
sitting. While their squaws, with their papooses, 
are abroad, some gathering fuel, some bringing 
in pumpkins and beans; some drying the fish, 
and the venison taken by their lords in their last 
excursion. The skin of some animal tied about 
their waists, is all their clothing. In one w^ig- 
wam, into which you take a peep, you see the 
men busily engaged in gambling, hazarding, and 
often losing every particle of property they pos- 
sessed. 

In another direction, you see a company of 
men, women, and children, gathered round a 
powah. He is performing, to their astonish- 
ment, some of his wonderful feats. He can 
make the rocks dance, and the water burn, and 
turn himself into a blazing man. He can change 
a dry make sJcin into a living snake, to be seen, 
felt, and heard. All these things you see him 
do, and are ready to exclaim, " there is no new 
thing under the sun ! That which is done is 
that which shall be done." But hark ! What 
loud and bitter cry is that, issuing from one of 
the huts? It is a lamentation for the dead, 
made ever and anon by the mourning fiimily, 
and the neighbors assembled with them. The 
man of the hut has died, and his burial is to 
take place before evening. 



20 



It is now time to satisfy the cravings of hun- 
ger, and the women are busy preparing food. 
You are inquisitive to see how it is done. At a 
little distance from the wigwam, the fire for 
cooking is kindled. One is moistening some 
corn, which she has bruised in a hollow stone, 
with a stone pestle, by pouring water upon it 
from a dried pumpkin shell, and spreading it for 
baking upon a thin flat stone. Another is boil- 
ing meat in a wooden vessel, by putting hot 
rocks in the water with the meat, and changing 
them often. The wooden vessel is a log rudely 
hollowed out by a stone gouge. As hospitality 
to strangers is the Indian's pride, you are, of 
course, invited to partake of the repast. It is in 
the wigwam where the men are seated upon the 
ground in a circle, with the food in the centre. 
You contrive to sit with them, though with far 
less grace, and eat with them out of the com- 
mon dish, without knife or fork, or salt, or drink. 
The women stand round till their lords have 
finished, and then in a like posture eat up the 
remains. 

After thus dining, in Indian style, you bend 
your course to the banks of the river, where are 
a group of Indian children frolicking in the 
water, some not over three years, swimming like 
ducklings. Numerous canoes of birch bark are 



2i 



gliding lip and down the river, for the purpose 
of clamming and fishing. The river will never 
be more lively a hundred years hence. As you 
walk on the bank of the river, you see a contri- 
vance for catchino; the river fish. It is called a 
wear, and belongs to John Perkins, Jr. It con- 
sists of stone walls, extending towards each other 
down the stream, till they come in contact at an 
angle of forty-five degrees. At this angle a trap 
is set, made of hoops and twigs, in which great 
numbers of fish are taken. Mr. Perkins is 
granted this privilege for seven years, beginning 
with 1636, and is to sell his alewives at 5s. for 
1000. Richard Kent is also allowed to build 
another wear, having one already in operation. 
On your return to the hill of wigwams, you 
see a crowd collected for the funeral. The 
mourners have their faces painted black. The 
corpse rests by the side of the grave, till they join 
again in their savage howl. Tears roll freely 
down the cheeks of old and young. The body 
is laid in the grave ; and another dismal cry is 
heard. The mat on which the deceased died, is 
then spread over the body. His tomahawk and 
spear, and whatever was most precious to him, 
is- buried with him ; but his garment of skin 
they hang upon a tree near by, never again to 
be touched, but to perish wath the body. 



22 



As you turn away from this solemn scene, 
deeply affected with their dark superstition, and 
their destitution of the light of Revelation, and 
of all the comforts and blessings of civilized life, 
you are more sensible than ever of your obliga- 
tions to E[im that made you, and who died to 
redeem you. Returning by the load that you 
came, you pass a thick swamp, and see just be- 
fore you a bear with her cubs just entering it, 
and are glad that her eye was turned from you, 
till she was on her way through the swamp. A 
little further along, you see a wolf caught in a 
trap, or rather held fast by a line. He cannot 
pull away ; for the hooks in his mouth, attached 
to the line, cause him great agony. These 
hooks, four in number, had been bound together 
by a thread, some wool wrapped about them, 
and then dipped in melted tallow, till they 
formed a substance as large as an egg ; which 
has proved a bait to the unsuspecting animal. 

Prolonging your visit for a day or two in Mr. 
Cogswell's family, you call also upon their neigh- 
bors, who, though few and far between, are treas- 
ures of comfort to each other, abounding in all 
the sweet charities of good neighborhood. Your 
walk at this time lies in a north and north-west 
direction, on the road which leads to the centre 
of Ipswich. The first house which you come to, 



23 



is Wm. Goodhue's. He has just moved into the 
place, and entered his new log building, which is 
about a quarter of a mile north of Mr. Cogs- 
well's. A half mile beyond Wm. Goodhue's in 
the same direction, is the Bradstreet house ; and 
nearly a mile farther, on the dark and solitary 
road through the woods to Ipswich, is Wm. 
White's. By your brief visits to each of these 
families, you learn that they are thoroughly 
Puritan in their principles, and English in their 
manners and customs. Their children were 
born in England, and have been thus far well 
instructed and brought up. Their houses, though 
built of logs, are comfortable and well furnished. 
Having spent the day pleasantly in these, happy 
and hospitable families, you return to Mr. C's. 
It is Saturday evening. The pious household 
are making preparation for the coming Sabbath, 
the 

" Day of all the week the best," 

and for the proper observance of which, chiefly, 
they left their native land, and settled in this 
wilderness. Nothing is left undone which it is 
practicable to do, by way of preparation for holy 
time. On Sabbath morning, having risen at an 
early hour, all get ready with their best apparel 
to attend public worship in the body of the town. 
The mother is mounted upon a horse, with the 



24 



youngest daughter behind her ; while the other 
three daughters and three sons, with their father 
at their head, travel on foot. The mother and 
daughters, however, ride alternately, as fatigue 
requires, or choice directs. The father and 
eldest son go armed, to guard against the attacks 
of wild beasts. The road is long and rough ; 
but love for the house of God lightens the toil. 
They are joined on the way by the families of 
their neighbors, and the excitement of social 
affections, and suitable conversation, makes the 
way seem short. 

In less than two hours, you are at the door of 
the meeting house, a spacious log building, but 
filled with many a warm heart, and lighted up 
with many a heavenly countenance. The ser- 
vices on both parts of the day, consists of prayer, 
singing, and preaching. The preacher is Mr. 
Ward, the pastor of the church. His discourses 
are full of evangelical sentiment, calculated to 
humble the sinner, and exalt the Saviour ; and 
you know not which most to admire, the lucid 
arrangement of the excellent matter, sustained 
at every point by scripture quotations, or the 
fluency and fervor of the delivery. You mark, 
as a peculiarity of the times, that one of the 
elders or deacons, who sit in a pew adjoining the 
pulpit, in front, reads the psalm, one line at a 



25 



time, and all in the assembly, that are able, join 
with him in. the singing. 

The services being ended at an early hour, the 
intermission having been very short, you com- 
mence your return with the pilgrim family. 
Deeply interested in the preacher, you are 
prompted, as you walk by the side of Mr. C, to 
ask of him some account of the man. He cheer- 
fully complies, and gives you the following par- 
ticulars of his beloved pastor, as he has learned 
them from an authentic source. 

Mr. Nathaniel Ward was born at Haverhill, 
England, in 1570. He was educated at one of 
our principal universities, and after having been 
for some time a student and practitioner of the 
law, he travelled in Holland, Germany, Prussia, 
and Denmark. At the university of Heidelberg, 
he became acquainted with the celebrated 
scholar and divine, David Parens, and by con- 
versing with him, was induced to abandon the 
profession of law, and to commence the study of 
divinity. After being occupied for some time, 
in theological pursuits, at Heidelberg, he re- 
turned to England, and was settled in the minis- 
try at Standon, in Hertfordshire. He was or- 
dered before the bishop, December 12, 1631, to 
answer for his non conformity, and refusing to 
comply with the requisitions of the church, he 
3 



2i 



was at length forbidden to continue in the exer- 
cise of his clerical office. In April, 1634, he 
left his nrttive country, and arrived here in the 
following June ; and was soon settled over us as 
our pastor, being sixty-four years of age. 

Having reached Mr. C's. house, and supped 
with the family, you close the day as it was 
begun, with household devotions, and with con- 
versation suited to make you more useful and 
happy on earth, and better prepared for the 
world to come. On the following day you take 
leave of the family, in which you have made so 
pleasant a visit, resolving that you will return 
again, if you live, and see what progress your 
venerated ancestors have made, in the clearing 
of land, in the arts of husbandry, and the com- 
forts of life. 

In the mean time, the settlement and im- 
provement of the place gradually advanced. The 
persecution of the dissenters in England con- 
tinuing, great numbers of them embarked for 
this country. But in 1640 the tide of emigra- 
tion, in a great measure, ceased to flow. The 
spirit of liberty, and even of republicanism had 
begun then to show itself in the British Par- 
liament, and hope was cherished by the Puritans 
that they should soon enjoy as much civil and 
religious freedom there as here. It was esti- 



2T 



mated at the time, that up to 1640, about four 
thousand families, consisting of twenty-one thou- 
sand souls, had arrived in two hundred and 
ninety-eight ships. The expense of the removal 
of these families was estimated at £192,000 
sterling, wdiich, including what they paid at 
home, and to the Indians here, was a dear pur- 
chase of their lands.^ 

Of these emigrants, Ipswich received a pro- 
portional share, both as to numbers, intelligence, 
and piety. Johnson, as quoted by Felt, remarks 
of Ipswich, as early as 1646, " The peopling of 
this town is by men of good rank and quality, 
many of them having the yearly revenue of 
large lands in England, before they came to this 
wilderness." Cotton Mather says of Ipswich, in 
1638, " Here was a renowned church, consisting 
mostly of such illuminated Christians, that their 
pastors, in the exercise of their ministry, might 
think that they had to do not so much with dis- 
ciples as judges." Of Mr. Eogers he says: "His 
colleague here was the celebrious Norton; and 
glorious was the church of Ipswich now in two 
such extraordinary persons, with their different 
gifts, but united hearts, carrying on the con- 
cerns of the Lord's kingdom in it." 

\ * History of New England. 



^ 



As Mr. Ward had resigned his office by rea- 
son of ill health, the church elected Mr. Norton 
as his successor in 1636, and two years after, 
chose Mr. Rogers for his colleague. They were 
in office together, one as pastor, and the other as 
teacher ; a distinction chiefly nominal, as their 
official duties were much the same. Mr. Rogers, 
(Nathaniel,) was born at Haverhill, England, in 
1598. He was a descendant of John Rogers, 
the martyr; was educated at Emanuel college, 
where he was eminent both as a scholar and a 
Christian. He came to this country at the age 
of forty, in company with many others, who all 
settled with him at Ipswich. Mr. Norton was 
born at Starford, England, in 1606 ; entered the 
university of Cambridge at fourteen; removed 
to this country in 1635 : resided in Boston 
about a year, and then settled in Ipswich, at the 
age of thirty. In 1652, he removed to Boston, 
and was settled as successor to Mr. John Cotton. 

Mr. Ward, the first minister of Ipswich, con- 
tinued to preach in Ipswich occasionally after he 
resigned his office as pastor of that church. In 

1638 he was appointed by the General Court, on 
a committee to prepare a code of laws. In 

1639 he sends them the result of his labors.* 
Copies of it were sent to the several towns for 
the consideration of the freemen. It was adopt- 



29 



ed by the General Court in 1641. It consisted 
of a hundred laws, called the body of liberties. 
Mr. Ward, it will be remembered, was an emi- 
nent lawyer before he became a minister, which 
was one reason, doubtless, why he was appointed 
on this committee. In 1640, with some men of 
Newbury, he commenced the settlement of Haver- 
hill, where afterwards his son John was settled 
in the ministry. Having been in this country 
eleven years, he returned to England, at the age 
of seventy-five, and became minister of Shen- 
field, in Essex County, where he lived eight 
years, and died aged eighty-three. He pub- 
lished, after he returned to England, several 
tracts, and a book, entitled " The Simple Cobbler 
of Agawam," a satirical and witty performance. 

"The year 1638," history informs us, "was 
remarkable for a great earthquake, throughout 
New England. This earthquake, as did that of 
1627, which was equally violent and extensive, 
constituted a remarkable era, that was long re- 
membered, and referred to by the pious inhabi- 
tants of these infant colonies."^ 

In 1634, a law was passed, that the whole 
body of freemen meet in Boston, from all the 
towns, at the General Court of Election, and 



* History of New England. 

3* 



30 



choose the magistrates, including Governor, and 
Lieut. Governor. In 1636, Ipswich, and five 
other towns are allowed to keep a sufficient 
guard of freemen at home from such a court, 
and to forward their proxies. 

This practice continued for about thirty years, 
when it went into disuse, and the present usage 
was in substance adopted. 

Pequot War.— 1637. 

The Pequots inhabited the borders of Con- 
necticut river, from its mouth to within a few 
miles of Hartford. They were a fierce, cruel, 
and warlike tribe. They had murdered several 
English families in that neighborhood ; and by 
seeking a union with other savage tribes, threat- 
ened to destroy the whole of the English colo- 
nists. This aroused the colonies of Plymouth, 
Massachusetts, and Connecticut, to imite, and 
make common cause as^ainst so destructive a foe. 
Connecticut raised 90, Plymouth 40, and Massa- 
chusetts 200 troops. The quota of Ipswich, for 
this army is 23. They are drawn out by lot. The 
names of all the inhabitants, fit to bear arms, are 
placed in a box by the proper authorities, and 
drawn out, one by one, until the number to be 
drafted is completed. An order is then sent to 
each of the drafted men, to appear on parade on 



31 



sucli a day and hour, prepared to march in pur- 
suit of the • enemy. The summons is doubtless 
received with calmness and courage by men, who 
felt that the peace and security of their wives 
and children, and the welfare of the country, 
depended on their subduing this haughty and 
cruel foe. No little agitation and solicitude, how- 
ever, is felt by the families in view of their hus- 
bands, fathers, and brothers, being called to the 
battle-ground, with the uncertainty of ever see- 
ing them again. Three of the drafted men 
were from this part of the town, — Andrew 
Story, Eobert Cross, and John Burnham. Story 
probably lived at the Falls. Burnham lived on 
the farm now owned by Enoch and Caleb Has- 
kell. His land, as appears from an ancient 
deed, extended to the head of the creek, then 
called Clark's Creek, and thence south-easterly, 
toward Gloucester line, including the farm now 
owned by Ezra Perkins, and joining upon the 
school farm. He was the progenitor of the 
Burnhams in this place. Some of his descend- 
ants inherited and lived on that tract of land 
until within thirty years. Others settled at an 
early period on land now owned by Timothy 
Andrews, Winthrop Burnham, Daniel Mears, Wm. 
Low, and others, — making a circuit near the 
woods, from the south-west corner of the school 
farm, over Kocky Hill, to Chebacco Pond. 



as 



Cross, we suppose, must have lived on a tract 
of land east of Jolin Burnham's ; probably on 
the farm now owned by Jonathan Lufkin ; since 
the town records mention a road, ordered to be 
laid out in 1657, from his house to the farther 
(south) side of Chebacco ferry; the same road 
probably, which is now from Caleb Haskell's, by 
the East school house, to Jonathan Lufkin's. 

The persons above named, went to the war, 
and returned in safety ; as we find them men- 
tioned two years afterwards, among those who 
were to receive from the town, a grant of land 
from two to ten acres each, for their services in 
the Pequot war. 

We will visit Mr. Burnham's, and hear from 
his own lips, the story which he may be sup- 
posed to have related to his family and friends, 
on his return. 

It is a summer evening, and the family and 
visitors are seated in the yard of the log house, 
upon logs conveniently arranged, when Mr. B. 
thus begins : You remember the morning when 
neighbor Cross and I set out for the army, with 
our blankets and provisions strapped to our 
backs, and guns in hand. As we passed neigh- 
bor Cogswell's, he shook us heartily by the hand, 
and said it was a righteous cause, and God would 
prosper us in it. They saw us coming at Good- 



83 



man BradstreetV', and the whole family came to 
bid ns God-speed, and wish us a safe return. 

When we reached the corner of Belcher's lane^ 
we found Andrew Story, from the Falls, waiting 
to join us. It was a painful and laborious expe- 
dition which was before us, attended with many 
anxieties as to whether we should ever se5 home 
again or not. But we encouraged one another 
in the Lord, believing that he had called us to 
the work of defendins- our lives and liberties 
against the attacks of a savage foe. We reached 
Ipswich Common, a little before the time ap- 
pointed, and found there some of the drafted 
men of Ipswich, and those from Rowley and 
Newbury. Yery soon Capt. Dennison, and the 
rest of our company, came upon the ground. A 
number of the settlers in the neighborhood, 
with our beloved pastor, came also to take leave 
of us. We formed a line, and our captain having 
exercised us for a while, requested our minister, 
Mr. Ward, to give us a word of exhortation, and 
offer a prayer, which he did. We then took up 
our march for the Pequot country. Having 
reached Salem Village, (North Danvers,) we were 
joined by the drafted men from Salem, and as 
we marched on, several others fell into our 
ranks. We reached Charlestown late in the 
evening, and encamped on the common ; it was 



34 



the first time that I had ever slept upon the 
ground, with nothing but the starry heavens for 
a covering. The next day, passing through 
Cambridge, we found there the Boston troops, 
with Capt. Stoughton, who was to be our prin- 
cipal captain, having the military stores, and 
camp litensils. We marched nearly thirty miles 
that day, through thick woods, and across many 
small streams, halting at noon for our meals, and 
for rest. The Indians, with their squaws and 
papooses, came from their hills around, to take a 
peep at us. They professed to be friendly ; but 
there was jealousy in their looks, a sort of half 
war, and half peace. As we went through a 
manual exercise, and especially when we took 
aim, they suddenly skulked behind their stout 
oaks ; but soon ventured ovit again, when they 
found our guns did not speak. At evening we 
found an open space on the side of a hill, cleared 
by the Indians, and there halted for the night. 
Having kindled our fires, and ate a good supper 
of porridge, we attended, as usual, upon prayer, 
offered by one of our captains, and with a trusty 
watch, and blazing fires, we laid ourselves down, 
and slept safely and soundly. The next day, we 
found ourselves getting nearer to hostile ground, 
and kept a sharp look out, lest we should feel 
the arrows of the Indians, suddenly flying upon 



85 



us from the surrounding woods. We, however, 
passed along quietly that day. On the following 
night, the sound of the Indian warhoop, real or 
imaginary, we could not tell which, together 
with the tremendous howling of beasts, kept me 
awake for a while. But through fatigue I fell 
asleep, and dreamed of being in a terrible battle 
with the Pequots, whose arrows and tomahawks 
gave us no small trouble. Their awful yelling 
getting louder and louder, awaked me, when I 
discovered one of the watch standing over me, 
who told me it was time for me to get up, and 
take my turn in the watch. At length, after a 
tedious and exhausting march of nearly a week, 
often through pathless Avoods, carrying our guns, 
our ammunition, and provisions, we reached the 
Pequot's country, and learned that Capt. Mason, 
with 90 Connecticut troops, and 500 friendly 
Indians, had attacked and captured one of the 
principal forts of the Pequots, and that the 
remainder of them, with Sassacus, their princi- 
pal Sachem, had gone westward, and Capt. 
Mason had returned to Saybrook. Capt. Stough- 
ton, in consultation with his officers, concluded to 
march to Saybrook. At that place, Capt. Mason, 
being thus joined by the Massachusetts troops, 
200 strong, had orders to march immediately in 
pursuit of the enemy. Accordingly, on the 



36 



morning of the 25tli of June, we took up our 
line of march in search of the remnant of this 
warUke and cruel tribe. During one of our 
baitings at noon, a Connecticut soldier gave us 
some account of their attack and capture of one 
of the principal forts of the Pequots, situated 
near Groton, in the south-east part of Connecti- 
cut. " We reached," he said, " a swamp in Groton, 
and between two large rocks pitched our little 
camps. We were so near, that our sentinels 
could hear the enemy in their fort, singing and 
dancing through the night. About two hours 
before day, our officers awaked us, and having 
commended ourselves and our cause to the 
Almighty, in a prayer by the Chaplain, we pro- 
ceeded with silence and dispatch for the enemy's 
fort. We had about 500 Indians with us. When 
within a few rods of the fort, we halted, and 
Capt. Mason sent for the Indian chiefs, Uncus 
and Wequash, and desired them to prepare their 
men for battle. But the chiefs said their men 
were afraid, and would not advance any farther. 
Capt. M. then told them not to go away, but to 
surround the fort at any distance they pleased, 
and see with what courage Englishmen could 
fight. The day was now dawning, and we 
pressed for the fort. Just as we came upon it, 
a Pequot sentinel discovered us, and roared out 



37 



^ Owanux ! Owanux !' ' Englishmen ! English- 
men !' We pressed on, and as the Indians were 
rallying, poured upon them the contents of our 
muskets, and rushed into the fort, sword in hand. 
They gave us a very warm reception. After 
fighting nearly two hours, in which we killed 
hundreds of the Indians, and lost some of our 
own men, it seemed doubtfid how we should 
come out • when our captain, rushing into a 
wigwam, and catching up a fire-brand, cried out, 
^ We must burn them," and instantly set fire to 
the mats on top of the wigwam. We followed 
his example, and soon the whole fort was in 
flames. We retreated out of the fort, and sur- 
rounded it. The friendly Indians, (Mohegans 
and Narragansetts,) formed another circle in our 
rear. The Pequots were now in a terrible state. 
Eushing from their burning cells, they were shot, 
or cut in pieces by the English. Many threw 
themselves into the flames. It was a grand and 
awful sight. The violence of the flames, — the 
reflection of the light, — the clashing and roar of 
arms, — the shrieks and yells of the savages in 
the fort, — and the shouting of the friendly In- 
dians without, exceeded all I had ever witnessed. 
In less than two hours from the time we entered 
the fort, 80 wigwams were burned, and upwards 
4 



38 



of 800 Indians destroyed. Our own loss did not 
exceed 25, killed and wounded." 

This account of our Connecticut friend showed 
lis what sort of a foe we had to deal with. But 
from the fact that so many of them had been 
destroyed, we were encouraged to hope that we 
should ere long, be wholly delivered from so 
cruel and ferocious an enemy. It was not long 
before we came in sight of some of them in 
small de tat died parties, whom we easily captured 
or destroyed. But it was some time before we 
could get any information of the main body of 
the tribe. After five days' march, we reached 
Quinnipeak, (New Haven,) where we were told 
by a friendly Pequot, that Sassacus and his men 
w^ere in a swamp, a few miles west of us. We 
pushed forward, and on the next day reached 
the border of the swamp. But it was too soft 
and boggy for any to enter but Indians. Our 
officers thought it best to surround the swamp, 
so as to be sure that none of them should escape, 
and annoy them as we could. We found that 
there was another tribe in the swamp, to the 
number of 300, that had never murdered any of 
the English. Them we willingly let out. But 
the Pequots said they had both shed and drank 
the blood of Englishmen, and were determined 
to fight it out. As night came on, we cut through 



39 



a part of the swamp, and made the circle roimd 
the enemy much less, and so completely hemmed 
them in, that they could not escape, even under 
the darkness of the night. The enemy finding 
in the morning that they were wholly shut in, 
made a violent attempt to break through our 
lines. But we drove them back, with great 
slaughter. They next tried to force the lines of 
the Connecticut troops; but with no better suc- 
cess. The battle now was close and hot, the 
enemy seeming determined not to yield but at 
the loss of their lives. Out of about 600 of 
them, only 60 escaped. Our loss was 11 killed, 
and 20 wounded. John Wedgwood and Thomas 
Sherman, of this town, were among the wounded. 
We took many of them prisoners ; some of 
whom were kept by our men as servants, and 
some were sent to the West Indies, and sold to 
the planters. This battle finished the Pequot 
tribe. The few that escaped, or were not in the 
swamp, were destroyed by the friendly Indians. 
We took some of them on our return. A party 
of them hove in sight one day, when Francis 
Wright, our townsman, gave chase to them, and 
having no more powder and ball, he brake his 
gun over them, and brought two of their heads 
to the camp. The j)risoners told us that more 
than 2,000 of their tribe had been killed in dif- 



40 



ferent battles^ and more than a thousand taken 
prisoners.^ Our march back was less tedious, 
as we had less to bring ; and, as we neared home, 
the way seemed shorter. Ipswich never seemed 
so pleasant before ; the sight of Chebacco was 
still pleasanter. We owe many thanks to God 
for keeping us alive and unharmed in so hard 
and perilous a campaign, and in giving us such 
signal success. Upon this, the good man oftered 
a prayer, abounding in thanksgiving, as well as 
supplication ; after which all retired. 

Notwithstanding the extermination of this 
numerous and warlike tribe, the fear and alarm 
excited by the Indians were not diminished, but 
gradually increased among the colonists. An or- 
der is issued by the Governor and Council, re- 
quiring Ipswich, Rowley, and Newbury, to send 
40 men, on the Sabbath, Sept. 2d., 1642, to dis- 
arm Pasconoway, who lived at Merrimack This 
was caused by the suspicion of a general con- 
spiracy against the English. 

The pay of the soldiers in these wars, was Is. 
per day, and the officers 2s. Musket balls and 
wampum, i. e. strings of shells, black, white, and 
blue, were the currency of the day. None but 
freemen could hold offices or vote for rulers. 

* Trumbull's History Indian Wars. 



41 



To become a freeman, each person was required 
to become a member ot some Cons^res-ational 
church. This was doubtless owing to the pecu- 
liar situation of our ancestors at that time. They 
had fiecl from the persecution of the Episcopal 
Church at home. Now if they had allowed men 
of that church, or any other church, hostile to 
religious freedom, to take the lead in their 
affairs here, in their feeble state, the result might 
have been the bringing in of the same perse- 
cuting power of the Bishops, from which they 
had already suffered so much, and this would 
have defeated the very end for which they came 
here. They might as well have remained under 
the persecuting power of the bishops in their 
father land, as to have come to this wilderness, 
and allowed that power to follow them, and gain 
the ascendency over them. Their only security 
against this danger seemed to be in a law that 
every voter, and every candidate for office, 
should be a member of some Congregational 
church; i. e., a church, whose principles of gov- 
ernment are wholly democratic. Others might 
reside among them unmolested, but not take the 
lead, or have any management in their civil or 
relidous affairs. Some have taken occasion from 
this to reproach them, as if they were not wil- 
ling to grant that liberty to others which they 
4^ 



42 



claimed for themselves. But they stood in this 
matter only in self defence. They had bought, 
with a great price, their tract of land in this 
part of the wide wilderness, and were at a great 
expense and suffering in settling on it, for the 
express purpose of enjoying their own religion 
in their own way. The wilderness was wide 
enough for all. Others might choose their por- 
tion in it, and set up what worship they pleased, 
and conduct their own affairs in their own way, 
on territory, the sovereignty of which they had 
fully and fairly acquired. But they could not 
be allowed to reside on the lands of the Puritans, 
at the hazard of robbing them of their dearest 
rights and privileges. They could not, therefore, 
become voters or rulers among them without 
complying with certain specified conditions : such 
conditions as our fathers deemed necessary to 
protect their own liberties. The same, for sub- 
stance, is true with us at this day, though the 
conditions of citizenship are not the same, 
because our circumstances are different. The 
times of our fathers were those of infancy and 
weakness. The least tendency to mutiny in the 
infant colony, placed them in great jeopard}^ 
As on board of a vessel, the safety of the whole 
depends on the suppression of the first manifesta- 
tion of a mutinous spirit, and even of the pro- 



43 



mulgation of principles tending to mutiny, by 
the severest measures, if necessary ; so in these 
infant settlements of our fathers, with savages in 
the midst of them, with wild beasts around 
them, with scarcely any means of defence, and 
themselves few and far between, the preserva- 
tion of their lives, and of their dearest rights 
and liberties, depended on their promptly putting 
down all opposition to their civil government, 
and suppressing all insurrectionary publications. 
Hence, when Koger Williams, a Welsh emi- 
grant, appeared in 1631, and refused the oath of 
fidelity to the government, and taught others to 
follow his example ; and taught that their patent 
obtained of King Charles, was invalid ; and that 
it was wrong to take an oath in a court of jus- 
tice, or any where else, unless you first knew that 
the person administering the oath, was a con- 
verted man, and other things equally absurd 
and dangerous to the civil peace, he was sent 
out of their colony, and proceeding to another 
part of the wilderness, he began the settlement 
of Rhode Island ; which he might as well have 
done before attempting to overturn the govern- 
ment of Massachusetts as afterwards.^ 



* It is a remarkable fuct, that Rhode Island, actuated by the principles of 
self defence, imitated Massachusetts in that very thing in which Rogi^r Wil- 
liams had so reproachfully condemned them ; viz, excluding those religion- 



44 



And thus, too, when the Quakers appeared in 
1656, with the declaration that no government 
was Lawful unless administered by them, " That 
every other government but their own was a 
tree to be cut down/'^ and carried out these in- 
surrectionary principles, by riotous and trea- 
sonable acts, — they were sent out of the colony. 
On their returning with the same determination 
to overturn, if possible, the civil authorities, 
they were sent out again, with the warning that 
if they returned the third time, they would be 
subjected to capital punishment. In their in- 
fatuation, they came back, and four of them 
were hung on Boston Common ; just as incor- 
rigible rebels against civil government would 
now be treated, — and yet this is called in all our 
school histories, the persecution of the Qua- 
kers ! We have alluded to this matter because 
the reputation of the first settlers of Ipswich, 
and of this place, then a part of Ipswich, as well 
as of the colonists in general, is so deeply con- 
cerned in it. It seems to be time that their 



ists, whom they believed to be dangerous to civil liberty, from the privi- 
leges of freemen, or the right of choosing, or being chosen, civil officers. 
And this, too, in violation of the charter which they had just received from 
England. In March, 1663, they enacted a law, in which they say, " That 
all men, of competent estates, and of civil conversation. Human Catholics 
only txctjded, shall be admitted freemen. — Hist, of N. E. 

* History of New England. 



45 



children should know, that the memory of their 
justly venerated sires is not deserving of this 
foul stigma, which some have endeavored to 
fasten upon it. 

The first settlers of this town claimed all the 
land contained in it, having purchased it of Mas- 
connornet, for £20 sterling. And what they did 
not divide among themselves, for their imme- 
diate use and improvement, or grant to others 
that came to settle among them, they held in 
common, and were therefore called commoners, 
and their land thus held, commonage. They 
appear to have been a body of proprietors, dis- 
tinct from the town ; fur it was not till 1788, that 
they gave to the town all their claim to the com- 
mon land, to pay the town debt. But though 
distinct from the town as a body, they seem also 
to have had some connection with it in this mat- 
ter, and to have been in a measure under its 
jurisdiction respecting it, for we find in the 
records of the town, that " None but commoners 
shall make any use of common land," and the 
Selectmen are directed to petition the Court for 
a confirmation of this order. The Court accord- 
ingly passed a law, " That no dwelling shall have 
commonage, except those now built, or may be, 
by consent of conunoners, or towns." 

In 1643, Thomas Low settled in this place, on 



46 



land now owned by Capt. Wintlirop Low. His 
house was about thirty-five rods south of Capt. 
L's, mansion. 

In 1645, John Choate, the first of the name 
in this pLace, came from England, and took land 
near the head of the creek, which divides Essex 
from Ipswich. His house was a few rods north- 
east of where John Low's now stands. He had 
four sons, and a number of daughters. His son 
Joseph, and grandson Daniel, afterwards owned 
the same farm. His son John settled on the 
fiirm now owned by Darius Cogswell. Thomas 
settled on Hog Island. He was a great farmer, 
and was called Governor Choate, probably from 
his having the sole rule and possession of the 
Island. His son John, born 1C97, built the stone 
bridge in Ipswich, called Choate's bridge. His 
daughter Sarah, married Rev. Amos Cheever, of 
Manchester. 

In 1645, we are told. New England was re- 
markably prosperous : commerce flourished, the 
fishery was actively carried on,- and agriculture 
was successful. 

Another Visit to the Ancient Settlers. 

1649. As a marriage is to take place at Mr. 
Cogswell's, we will revisit the family, notice the 
changes that have occurred, and be present at 



47 



the joyful solemnity. When there before, thh*- 
teen years since, they were Uving in their log 
house, surrounded by a dense forest, with but 
little land cleared, and that little full of burnt 
stumps, and with Indian wigwams near at hand, 
and the wolf, and the wild cat, and the bear, as 
soon as night set in, filling the forest with their 
terrific notes. But though the savage man and 
beast remain, you see many agreeable changes 
wrought by the persevering hand of industry. 
The log house has been abandoned for a new 
framed house, two stories in font, the roof de- 
scending on the back side nearly to the ground, 
the chimney in the centre, with two spacious 
apartments, and their chambers, on each side of 
it, and a kitchen in their rear, narrow, but nearly 
as long as the house. The chimney is built of 
stone, in its natural state, carefully selected, and 
put together with clay mortar, as high as the 
garret floor, where it receives a wooden chim- 
ney, daubed on the inside with clay mortar, and 
rising some feet above the roof The fire-places 
in each of the front rooms, are spacious, but in 
the kitchen of a mammoth size, so that the 
whole family may be seated in the corners at 
the ends of blazing logs, four or five feet in 
length. The boards were sawn by hand. Bricks 
being laid against the inner partition, and cov- 



48 



ered with clay, to exclude the cold, the boards 
on the out side, called clay-boards, are fastened 
in an upright posture, with narrow strips cover- 
ing the interstices. The roof is finished in the 
same style. The house stands in from the road, 
and fiices the south, that the sun at high noon, 
may look full into the windows, and by suitable 
marks on the window stool, may indicate the 
hour of the day. The windows are three feet 
by two, with small diamond-shaped glass, set in 
lead lines, and opening outwardly, on hinges. 
As you approach the house from the road, 3^ou 
pass through a beautiful garden of shrubbery, 
arranged after the English fashion. The whole 
establishment, though without the modern clap- 
boards and shingles, and the ornament of paint, 
affords a fine contrast to the rough, dark-looking 
log cabin, still standing just in the rear. You 
stand at the door, and might enter, by pulling 
the new nice string which hangs before you, but 
you choose to knock, that some one may show 
you in, and conduct you to the family : by whom 
you are cordially received, and hospitably enter- 
tained. You are as much pleased with the im- 
provement of their dwelling internally, as exter- 
nally. The fine carpets, which could not be laid 
upon the rough floors of the log house, are now 
spread upon their new rooms, comparing well 



49 



with the stuffed chairs, and other furniture 
brought with them from England, and saved 
from the wreck at Pemaquid. 

While the father and sons are busy in the 
field, the females are more than usually busy in 
the house, preparing for the expected wedding, 
and fitting the bride with a suitable wardrobe, 
and other articles for housekeeping. Having 
paid your respects to the family within, you 
walk abroad to see those without, and to witness 
the various improvements upon the premises. 
The black stumps in the fields are nearly all 
gone, and new fields added to the old ones. 
The woods have grown thinner, and have re- 
tired farther from the barn, and other out build- 
ings. The road from Mr. C's. to the ferry, is not 
near as dark as formerly, and is much improved 
for travelling. But you do not venture far -, for 
the law of the day forbids your going beyond a 
mile from the house alone, or unarmed, through 
fear of the Indians. The Indians here have the 
appearance of peace ; but they belong to an in- 
sidious race ; and need constant watching. See 
there a spacious log building, with strongly for- 
tified doors. It has been erected in conformity 
with a general order from the Court, to be a re- 
treat for all the families around, in case of an 
attack from the Indians. A watch is kept every 
5 



50 



night in all the towns, and the discharge of a 
gun is the signal of alarm. In the conversation 
of the evening, this matter is often referred to, 
and the wish that their savage neighbors wonld 
take lip their wigwams, and leave the town, is 
heartily responded to by all. But there is little 
hope of this, and the various ways in which they 
would defend themselves, or escape from their 
murderous weapons, is, therefore, freely talked 
of, especially by the younger members of the 
family. But there is one defence surer than 
all others, the protecting arm of a gracious 
Providence ; and as the good man of the house 
devoutly renders thanks in the family prayer, 
for their preservation thus far from so dreadful 
a foe, and other impending dangers, and suppli- 
cates a continuance of the same, all unite with 
deeper solicitude, and more heartfelt devotion 
than ever. 

The morning light dawns upon the Sabbath. 
All prepare at an early hour for the Sabbath 
days' journey to the house of God. Their home 
they leave under the protection of that Being 
whose command they obey in not forsaking the 
assembling of themselves together. As you pro- 
ceed with the men armed, you are silent, readj^ 
to catch every sound from the deep w-oods, lest 
it should betoken an attack from some beast, or 
savage foe. 



51 



The neighbors join you^ as you pass their 
houses, armed in like manner, and your fears are 
abated as your numbers increase. On arriving 
at the house of God, the numerous muskets and 
pikes, seen in the hands both of old men and 
young, give signs of the common danger. But 
faith in God, composes the mind, and prepares 
the heart for His worship who is the source of 
all good, and a very present help in trouble. 
But means are to be used, and, to prevent a sur- 
prise, sentinels are placed on the outside of the 
church, while the congregation worship within. 

Mr. Rogers, the pastor, begins the services 
with a prayer. The teacher, Mr. Norton, then 
reads and expounds a portion of scripture. A 
Psalm is then givn out by one of the ruling 
elders or deacons, which is read and sung line by 
line. Mr. Rogers preaches in the morning, and 
Mr. Norton in the afternoon. An hour glass is 
placed at one end of the elders pew, that the 
sermon may not be less than an hour in the de- 
livery. Singing, prayer, and the benediction fol- 
low the sermon on both parts of the day. Be- 
fore the close of the afternoon service, the usual 
Sabbath collection is taken in the following man- 
ner : the whole congregation, with the magis- 
trates and chief men at their head, pass up one 
aisle to the deacons' seat, where, if they give 



52 



money, they drop it into a box, if any thing else, 
they set it clown before the deacon, and then 
pass down the other aisle to their seats. At the 
close, notice is given of the Thursday lecture, at 
eleven o'clock, A. M., which all are expected to 
attend, as it is a service which the parishioners 
have requested of their minister, for their own 
relisrious instruction and edification. As soon as 
the benediction is pronounced, your attention is 
suddenly arrested by the loud and measured 
tones of the town clerk, in the following an- 
nouncement, " Notice is hereby given that mar- 
riage is intended between Godfrey Armitage, of 
Boston, and Mary Cogswell, of Ipswich." As 
this is the third Sabbath that the parties have 
been thus publicly cried, only a slight tinge of 
red now suffuses Mary's face. A justice of the 
peace must marry them ; such is the law of the 
colony. But as religious services are proper and 
important on the ocoasion, the parents invite 
their pastors to be present on the following 
Tuesday, at eleven o'clock. 

In conversation wdth the family, as you re- 
turn, you speak of the precious privileges you 
have enjoyed ; and of your great satisfaction 
that the sermons, so faithful and profitable, w^ere 
each of them over an hour in length. " We 
could not do with less instruction from the pul- 



53 



pit than this/' says Mr. C. We therefore stipu- 
lated with our pastors at their settlement, that in 
proportion as they fell short of an hour, in their 
sermons, a deduction should be made from their 
yearly support. 

In your walk on Monday through the north 
end, you notice with pleasure, the increased 
number of settlers, all occupying framed houses, 
and all having some cultivated lands nearly free 
from stumps, and orchards that are beginning, 
some of them, to yield fruit. Nothing seems to 
be in the way of their comfort and peace, ex- 
cept that the bears and wolves commit depreda- 
tions upon their flocks and herds, both by night 
and by day, making it unsafe for the children to 
be out of the sight of their parents. The In- 
dians, too, frequenting the woods and the roads, 
and occasionally looking into their houses, though 
apparently friendly, yet occasion anxiety lest 
they are plotting some hidden ndschief 

A beautiful bright sun dawns on the nuptial 
day, accompanied with a balmy refreshing air. 
The company begin to assemble at an early hour. 
The best room is thrown open, and soon filled 
with the invited guests, the near neighbors, and 
many friends and acquaintances, from the body 
of the town. The officiating magistrate, Wil- 
liam Paine, Esq., with Mr. Rogers and Mr. Nor- 
5* 



54 



ton, enter together, and receive the affectionate 
salutations of the company. The children are 
at home. William has brought his intended to 
partake with him the joy of the occasion. Charles 
Waldo, of Chelmsford, soon to be married to 
Hannah, is also present. There are two young 
men from the centre of Ipswich, Clark and Tut- 
tle, both beginning to be troubled with some 
heart beatings. Clark has an eye upon Abigail, 
and Tuttle upon Sarah. Both of whom, in some 
unaccountable way, have caught the same heart 
complaint. But whether they caught it of the 
young men, or the young men of them, remains 
in uncertainty. One thing is certain, they hardly 
dare to exchange glances, because they have not 
yet asked leave, and the law of the colony is 
severe upon the young man that makes or mani- 
fests love to a young lady without leave, formally 
obtained of her parents. 

The bride and bridegroom are seated by them- 
vselves opposite to the magistrate, with the bride's 
maid and groom's man in their appropriate places. 
The time for the ceremony having arrived, Mr. 
Eogers invokes the blessing of God. The magis- 
trate then joins the parties in marriage, by their 
mutual assent to a solemn covenant, and Mr. 
Norton closes with prayer. As the marriage 
feast is soon to follow, the intervening time is 



55 



spent in pleasant and profitable conversation on 
the signs of the times, and the news of the day, 
both at home and abroad. The news from Eng- 
land of the execution of Charles I., particularly en- 
grosses their attention. They are all agreed that 
if ever a murderer deserved death for one act of 
murder, Charles, who, by his tyranny and cruelty, 
perpetually harassed and oppressed his subjects, 
robbing them of their dearest rights and privi- 
leges, certainly deserved no less. Cromwell, the 
real leader and master-spirit in this struggle for 
freedom, they highly extol for his piety and 
courage, his wisdom and indomitable energy, 
his patriotism, and love of justice, and devoutly 
wish, that with the help of God, he may be in- 
strumental of restoring liberty to England, and 
establishing permanently a republican form of 
government. Dinner being ended, and the com- 
pany retiring, you retire with them. 

The School Farm. 
1651, Jan. 11th. The town give to the Gram- 
mar or Latin School, all the " neck beyond Che- 
bacco river, and the rest of the ground up to 
Gloucester line." January 16th, this land is 
leased by the trustees of the donation to John 
Cogswell, Jr., of Chebacco, and his heirs and 
assigns forever, for £14 a year. It includes the 



56 



land on the south of the river to Gloucester line, 
as far east as the creek, over which is the lower 
causeway, and west, as far as the brook near 
Warren Low's house. At the date of this lease, 
money, by being very scarce, was of so much 
value, that £14, ($46, 2-3,) was a sufficient salary 
for the teacher. But when money, by becom- 
ing more plenty, fell in value, and would pur- 
chase comparatively but little, the salary was alto- 
gether insufficient. Hence, the town in 1720, 
were about commencing a suit against the hold- 
ers of the school farm, to compel them to pay 
the original value of the .:£14. This suit they 
offered to relinquish, if the occupants of the 
farm would agree to support the schoolmaster, 
which would have cost in that day, about $200. 
But this the occupants were clearly not bound 
to do by the terms of the lease, as the town no 
doubt ascertained ; for they abandoned the prose- 
cution, and remained satisfied with the nominal 
sum. If it had been stipulated in the lease, 
that the annual rent should be more or less than 
£14:, according to the value of money, estimated 
by the current price of certain specified articles 
of living, the amount at this day would proba- 
bly have been more than $200 a year. This, 
however, would not now support a schoolmaster, 
as £14: did then, because, besides the difference 



67 



in the price of commodities, the style of living, 
is now full. three times as expensive as it v^as 
then. 

Death of Mr. Rogers. 
1655. The funeral of Mr. Rogers, the only 
minister of the town, after the removal of Mr. 
Norton to Boston, takes place, and is attended by 
a great number of people, from all parts of the 
town, and by many from neighboring towns. 
He is buried at the expense of the town, and his 
grave is bedewed with the tears of many who 
loved him as their pastor, and whose souls had 
been savingly benefitted by his earnest and faith- 
ful ministry. The people of Chebacco have 
much reason to lament his comparatively early 
departure from life, for often had he been with 
them in their houses, in scenes of joy and sor- 
row. He had sat with them by the side of their 
sick beds, directing them to Jesus, the friend and 
Saviour of sinners, and comforting their hearts 
with his promises to the penitent and believing. 
He had solemnized their marriages, baptized 
their children, and buried their dead. For about 
sixteen or seventeen years, they had enjoyed his 
ministry in the sanctuary of God, on the Sab- 
bath, and on lecture days. His sermons were of 
a more than ordinary character, and were lis- 
tened to by large and attentive audiences, who 



58 



could not fail, under such preaching, to have 
their senses exercised to discern both good and 
evil. The following account of him is taken 
from Cotton Mather's work on New England, en- 
titled Magnalia Christi Americana, published 
1702. I have abridged Mather's account to save 
room ; yet, as it is in his own words, it may serve 
both to instruct us in respect to Mr. Rogers, and 
as a specimen of Mather's style of writing. 
Mather was minister of the North church, Boston. 
" Nathaniel Rogers was the second son of that 
famous man, Mr. John Rogers, of Dedham, (Eng- 
land,) and born while his father was minister of 
Haveril.^ about the year 1598. He was educated 
at the Grammar (Latin) school in Dedham, till 
he was near fourteen years old, and then he was 
admitted into Emanuel College, in Camhidge. 
There he became a remarkable and incompara- 
ble proficient in all academick learning. His usual 
manner was to be an early and exact student, by 
which means, he was quickly laid in with a good 
stock of learning, but into all his other learning 
there was that glory added, the fear of God, for 
the crown of all ; the principles whereof were 
instilled into his young soul with the counsels of 
his pious mother, while he sat on her knees, as 
well as his holg father, when he came to riper 
years. From his very childhood, he was exem- 



59 



plary for the success which God gave luito the 
cares of his- parents to principle him with such 
things, as rendered him tvise unto salvation. 

" The first specimen that he gave of his minis- 
terial abilities, was as a chaplain in the house of a 
person of quality ; whence, after a year or two, 
ih.\\s fledged, he adventured a flight into a great 
congregation, at Bocking, in Essex, under Dr. 
Barkham ; not without the wonder of many, 
how the son of the most noted Furiian in Eng- 
land, should come to be employed under an 
Episcopal Doctor, so gracious with Bishop Laud ; 
but this Dr. BarJcham was 2i good preacher himself, 
and he was also willing to gratify his parish- 
ioners, who were, many of them, religiously dis- 
posed ; hence, though the Dr. would not spare 
a tenth part of his revenues, which, from his 
divei^s livings, amounted unto near a thousand 
pounds a year, ($4,000,) to one who did above 
three quarters of his work, yet he was otherwise 
very courteous and civil to our 3£r, Rogers, 
Whom his parishioners handsomely maintained 
out of their own purses, and showed what a 
room he had in their hearts, by their doin§^ so. 

" But the Doctor of BocJdng, being present at 
the funeral of some eminent person there, he 
observed that 3fr. Rogers forbore to put on the 
surplice, in the exercise of his ministry on that 



60 



occasion ; which inspired him with as much dis- 
gust against his curate, as his curate had against 
the surplice itself. Whereupon, though the Doc- 
tor were so much a gentleman, as to put no pub- 
lic affront upon Mr. Eogers, yet he gave him his 
private advice to provide for himself in some 
other place. 

See the providence of our Lord ! about that 
very time, Assingto7i, in Suff^olk, being void by the 
death of the former incumbent, the patron there- 
of was willing to bestow it upon the son of his 
honored friend in Dcdham ; whither he was re- 
moved after that Boching had, for four or five 
years, enjoyed his labors. The inhabitants of 
Bromly, near Colchester, were at the same time 
extremely discontented at their missing of him. 
However, see again the providence of our Lord ! 
the Bishop of Nonvich let him live quietly five 
years at Assington, which the Bishop of London 
would not have done at Bromlg. This was the 
charge nowbetrusted with our Rogers ; concern- 
ing whom, I find an eminent person publishing 
unto the world this account: Mr. ' Nathaniel 
Eogers, a man so able and so Judicious, in soul work, that 
I would have hetrusted mt/ soul with him, as soon as 
with any man in the church of Christ, 

" Here his ministry was both highly respected 
and gvedXly prospered, among persons of all quail- 



61 



ties, not only in the town itself, but in the neigh- 
borhood. He was a lively, curious, florid 'preacher ; 
and by his Jioli/ living, he so farther preached, as 
to give much life to all his other preaching. He 
had usually every Lord's day, a greater number 
of hearers than could crowd into the church ; 
and of those many ignorant ones were instructed, 
many iingoclly ones were converted, and many 
sorrowful ones were comforted. Though he had 
not his father's notable voice, yet he had several 
ministerial qualifications, as was judged, beyond 
his father ; and he was one prepared unto every good 
tvorJi, though he was also exercised with hodilg 
infirniities, which his labors brought upon him. 

But a course was taken to extinguish these 
lights, as fast as any notice could be taken of 
them. It was the resolution of the Hierarchy, 
that the ministers, who would not conform to 
their impositions, must be silenced all over the 
kingdom. Our Mr. Rogers, perceiving the ap- 
proach of the storm towards himself, did, out of 
a particular circumspection in his own temper, 
choose rather to prevent, than to receive the 
censures of the ecclesiastical courts, and there- 
fore he resigned his place to the patron, that so, 
some godly and learned conformist might be in- 
vested with it ; nevertheless, not being free in 
his conscience wholly to lay down the exercise 
6 



62 

of his ministry, he designed a removal into New 
England. He had married the daughter of one 
Mr. Crane, of Cogeshal, a gentleman of very con- 
siderable estate, who would gladly have men- 
tioned this, his worthy son-in-law, with his family, 
if he would have tarried in England, but observ- 
ing the strong inclination of his mind unto a 
Netv English voyage, he durst not oppose it. 
Now, though Mr. Rogers were a person very un- 
able to bear the hardships of travel, yet the im- 
pression which God had made upon his heart, 
like what he then made upon the hearts of 
many hundreds more, perhaps as w^eakly and 
sickly as he, carried him through the enterprise 
with an unwearied resolidion ; which resolution 
was tried unto the utmost. For, whereas the 
voyage from Gravesend unto Boston, uses to be 
dispatched in about nine or ten weeks, the ships 
which came with Mr. Rogers, were fully iiveniy- 
four tueeJcs in the voyage. After they had come 
two-thirds of their way, having reached the 
length of New Eoundland, their luants were so 
multiplied, and their winds were so contrary, that 
they entered into a serious delate, about return- 
ing back to England ; but upon their setting 
apart a day of solemn fasting and prayer, the 
weather cleared up ; and in a little time, they 
arrived at their desired port, viz., about the mid- 
dle of November y in the year 1636. 



m 



Mr. Roger's first invitation was to Dorchester ; 
but the number of good men who came hither, 
desirous of a settlement under his ministry, could 
not be there accommodated ; which caused him 
to accept rather of an invitation to Ipsivich ; 
where he was ordained pastor of the church, on 
Fehniary 20, 1638, (1639, N. S.) At his ordina- 
tion, preaching on 2 Cor., 2, Y^^—ivho is sufficietxt 
for these things ; a sermon so copious, judicious, 
accurate, and elegant, that it struck the hearers 
with admiration. His colleague here was the 
celebrious Norton, (settled two years before.) If 
Norton were excellent, there are persons of good 
judgment, who think themselves bound m justice 
to say, that Rogers came not short of Norton, in 
his greatest excellencies. 

While he lived in Ipsivich, he went over the 
five last chapters of Ephesians, in his ministry ; 
the twelfth to the Hebrews, the doctrine of self- 
denial, and tvalking tuith God ; and the fifty -third 
chapter of Isaiah, to the great satisfaction of all 
his hearers, with many other subjects more occa- 
sionally handled. It was counted pit}^ that the 
public should not enjoy some of his discourses, 

in all which, he was k rwv sa^vrwv aXXa Twv axPJi^Hv-rwv* 



* Not of those who belch out their words, but who express thera with the 
greatest accuracy. 



u 



But his physicians told him that if he went upon 
transcribing any of his composure, his disposition 
to accuracy, would so deeply engage him in it, as 
to endanger his life ; wherefore, he left few monu- 
ments of his ministry, but in the hearts of his 
people, which were many. It belongs to his 
character that he feared God above many, and 
tvaUced ivith God at a great rate of holiness, though 
such was his reservedness, that none but his inti- 
mate friends knew the loarticiilars of his walk, yet 
such as were indeed intimate with him, could 
observe, that he was much in fasting and prayer, 
and meditation, and those duties wherein the poiv- 
er of godliness is most maintained ; and as the 
graces of a christian, so the gifts of a minister, in 
him, were beyond the ordinary attainments of 
good men, yea, I shall do a wrong unto his name, 
if I do not freely say that he was one of the 
greatest men that ever set foot on the American 
strand. 

He was much troubled with spitting of hhod. 
He was also subject unto the Flatus Hypocon- 
driacus, even from his youth, wherewith, when he 
was first surprised, he thought himself a dying 
man. While he was under the early discourage- 
ments of this distemper, the famous Mr. Cotton, 
thus wrote to him in a letter, dated March 9th, 
1631. ^I bless the Lord with you, who sup- 



65 



porteth your feeble lody^ to do him service, and 
meanwhile perfecteth the power of his grace in 
your zveahiess. You know who said it, iinmor- 
tified strength iwBteth hard to hell. But sanctified 
weakness creepeth fast to heaven. Let not your 
spirit faint, though your hod^/ do. Your soid is 
precious in God's sight ; your hairs are mtmbered, 
and the number and measure of your fainting 
fits, and wearisome nights, are weighed and 
limited by his hand, who hath given to you his 
Lord Jesus Christ, to take upon hiin your infirmities^ 
and hear your sicknesses.'' Nor was it this distem- 
per which at last ended his days, but it was a 
flood of rheum, occasioned partly by his disuse of 
tobacco,^ whereto he had formerly accustomed 
himself, but now left it off, because he found 
himself in dano;er of beins; enslaved unto it, which 
he thought a thing below a christian, and much 
more a minister. He had often been seized with 
fits of sickness in the course of his life ; and his 
last seemed no more threatning than the former, 
till the last morning of it. An epidemic sort of 
cough had arrested most of the families in the 
country, which proved most particularly fatal to 



* It -was doubtless a mistake of Mather, in supposing that the disuse of 
tobacco had anything to do with hastening his death. But even if it had, 
does Eogers now regret that he discontinued the use of that noxious weed 
before he left the world ? 

6* 



66 



bodies, before laboring with rheumatic indisposi- 
tions. T/is he felt ; but in the whole time of 
his illness, he was full of heavenly discourse and 
counsel, to those who came to visit him. One of 
the last things he did, was to bless the three chil- 
dren of his only daughter, who had purchased 
his blessing by her singular dutifulness unto him. 
It is a notable passage in the Talmnds, that the 
inhabitants of Tsippor. expressing an extreme 
unwillingness to have the death of K. Judah, 
(whom they surnamed The Holij^ reported unto 
them, he that brought the report, thus expressed 
himself Holy men and angels took hold of the 
tables of the covenant, and the hand of the angels pre- 
vailed, so that they took awuy the tables. And the 
people then perceived the meaning of this para- 
boliser to be, that holy men would fain have de- 
tained R. Jiidah still in this world, but the angels 
took him away. Reader, I am as loth to tell the 
death of Rogers, the Holy ; and the inhabitants 
of Ipswich were as loth to hear it, but I must 
say the hand of the angel prevailed on July 3d, 
1655, in the afternoon. When he had uttered 
those for his last words, my times are in thy hands. 
His age was 57." 

Such was the character and labors of him 
on whose ministry our ancestors in this place at- 
tended, and with whom some of them had 



67 



come from England. If obedient to that gospel 
which he preached, they are now rejoicing with 
him among the redeemed in glory. 

165G. This year is memorable for the build- 
ing of Hatfield's bridge. On the following year, 
" A road is laid out," says the record, " to Good- 
wife Hatfield's bridge, through Mr. Roger's ox 
pasture.'* This is the present road from Haf- 
field's bridge, to the corner of the first road 
which came round the head of Choate's brook. 
A road must have been opened at the same time 
on this side, over the hill to the bridge. Our 
fathers, in beginning their homes in a wilderness, 
had so much to do, and so little to do with, that 
they found it easier to go round the creeks than 
to make bridg-es over them. Yet as soon as 
their means allowed, they were ready to make 
improvements in roads and bridges, as well as in 
other things, pertaining to the conveniences and 
comforts of life. 

Court House and Jail. 

As early as 1636, a court was held in Ipswich 
once a quarter, for the trial of such ofiences as 
are not capital. This court answered to our 
modern court of Common Pleas. The Supreme 
Court did not begin to sit in this town till 1693. 
A jail was built here in 1652. It was then the 



68 



second in the colony. 1656, a House of Cor- 
rection is in operation. It seems to have been 
connected with the jail. The inmates were re- 
quired to work, as the Selectmen are directed to 
supply them with flax and hemp. 

The trials in the courts, it may be presumed, 
were conducted, for the most part, in the same 
manner as they are at this day. The jurors were 
then, as now, taken from the different towns of 
the county, and were the supreme judges in 
every case between man and man, and between 
man and his majesty's province. The justices 
or judges upon the bench were to decide upon 
all points of law, but the jury upon matters of 
fact, involving questions of property, or of guilt 
or innocenee. This is the great bulwark of 
English liberty. All are equally free and safe, 
where all have the privilege of being tried by 
their peers. But let us go into one of the Ips- 
wich courts, held in olden time. It is in the 
month of May, 1663. As we ascend the hill, the 
meeting house, a handsome edifice, is on our 
left, a neat but smaller building on our right, is 
the court house. A little north of the meeting 
house, we see the jail and house of correction, a 
dark, comfortless looking building, with its win- 
dows guarded by iron bars. Between the church 
and the prison, on the same level spot, stands 



69 



the whipping post, tall and stout, with its iron 
hook, to fasten and draw up the culprit, while 
the lash is applied to the naked back. And 
near the post, stands the stocks. The pillory 
was placed there only when occasion required. 
We enter the court room, while the church bell 
is sending forth its peculiar peals, which all 
understand to be an invitation to all concerned, 
to hasten to court. Standing in the crowd, just 
within, we hear the authoritative voice of the 
Sheriff. Make way for the Court ! make way 
for the Court ! and begin to fear, as we can 
move but little, that we shall be found guilty 
without an indictment. An opening is made, 
and his Honor, the Court, passes through, and 
takes his seat on an elevated bench, next to the 
wall. The counsellors at law sit before him in 
an enclosure, formed by a railing, called the bar. 
On the right and left of the gentlemen of the 
bar, are seated the jurymen. A stand or plat- 
form for the witnesses, is near the bar, and just 
without it, and facing the judge, is the box for 
criminals. As it is the first day of the court's 
sitting, Mr. Cobbet, one of the ministers of the 
town, offers an appropriate prayer. The voice 
of the sheriff is then heard in strong and meas- 
ured accents, Oyes, Oyes, Oyes, all persons who 
have any thing to do before the Quarterly Court, 



70 



may now draw near, and give their attendance, 
and they shall be heard. God save the king. 

A prisoner is now brought in, and placed in 
the criminal's box for trial, a woman from 
Newbury, charged with the crime of perjury. 
The jury for the trial of this case are em- 
pannelled, and sworn by the clerk. With up- 
lifted hands they assent to the oath : 

You solemnly swear, that you will well and 
truly try the issue between his majesty's province, 
and the prisoner at the bar, so help you God. 

As you listen to the closing words, and ponder 
upon their meaning, you are satisfied that it is a 
solemn appeal to God for the truth of what is 
said, with a consent to be saved or destroyed by 
Him, according as you. speak truly or falsely. 
This is the highest obligation which man can 
impose upon his fellow man, to tell the truth, 
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. An 
oath for confirmation is an end of all strife. It is 
as far as man can go to terminate controversies. 

The criminal at the bar, in a case in which 
she was a witness, had, under oath, testified 
falsely, and thus committed the crime of per- 
jury. The clerk reads the indictment, which 
sets forth with great particularity, the crime 
with which she is charged. This particularity, 
in its abundance of words, in almost every va- 



71 



riety of form, seems to you tedious and unneces- 
sary. But it is the result of much experience, 
and is, every word of it, necessary to secure both 
the rights of the prisoner, and of the commu- 
nity at large. After reading the indictment, the 
clerk addressers the prisoner, Leah Sapphira, 
(which we may suppose to be her name.) What 
say you to this indictment, are you guilty there- 
of, or not guilty ? Not guilty, is the reply. He 
then turns to the jury. Gentlemen of the jur}^, 
the prisoner pleads not guilty, and for trial, puts 
herself upon her country, which country you 
are. If she is guilty, you will say so, and if not 
guilty, you will say so, and no more. Gentlemen 
of the jury, hearken to your evidence. 

The attorney for the government opens the case 
by stating particularly what he intends to do, and 
to prove, and then proceeds to call his witnesses. 
They testify, under oath, what they know of the 
matter ; all which goes to prove her guilt. They 
are cross examined by the prisoner's counsel, 
that he may draw something from them, if he 
can, which will go to refute their own testimony. 
He then brings forward his rebutting testimony ; 
calls witnesses to prove the general goodness of 
her character, and to establish the truth of the 
facts, to which she testified in the case in which 
she is said to have committed perjury, and goes 



72 



on to show, by a labored argument, that the evi- 
dence against his client is altogether insufficient 
to prove her guilt, and appeals to the good feel- 
ings of the jury, to their love of humanity, and 
justice, and to their honest perception of the 
failure of the government to prove the guilt of 
his client, that thus he may persuade them to 
bring in a verdict which shall relieve her from 
this state of disgrace and distress. Ilis majesty's 
counsel then addresses the jury : dwelling upon 
the facts in the case, and showing, as we may 
suppose, that she testified falsely in a point 
material to the issue of the case, by swearing to 
that, which, as all the witnesses were agreed, 
never took place, and could not, from the nature 
of things, have existed. Her testimony, there- 
fore, was wilfully false and malicious. 

The pleas on both sides, are able and eloquent. 
The jury listen attentively, but with a conserva- 
tive countenance. The judge states the case, 
recapitulates the evidence for and against, and 
charges the jury that if they are satisfied that 
the evidence against her is full and conclu- 
sive, beyond all reasonable doubt, they must 
return a verdict of guilty. But if they have 
reasonable doubts in the case, they are bound to 
let the prisoner have the benefit of them, and 
bring in their verdict accordingly. The prisoner 



73 



hears this with a countenance marked with 
anxiety, and deep interest. The jury retire, but 
soon return to their seats. Tlie clerk then says, 
Mr. Foreman, are you agreed in a verdict ? We 
are agreed, is the response. What say your, Mr. 
Foreman, is the prisoner at the bar guilty, or not 
guilty ? Guilty ! says the foreman. Gentlemen 
of the jury, hearken to your verdict. The jury, 
upon their oath, do say that the prisoner at the 
bar is guilty. So you say Mr. Foreman, so say 
you all, gentlemen of the jury ? The jury bow 
assent. 

The judge prefaces the sentence with a few 
pertinent remarks, on the heinousness of the 
crime of perjury, as striking a deadly blow at 
the very existence of society, by destroying all 
confidence in testimony, and as full of impiety 
and profaneness, tending to bring down upon 
the guilty head, the wrath and curse of the 
Almighty. As this, however, is her first offence, 
he imposes on her the lightest penalty of the 
law ; which is, that she stand at the meeting 
house door, in the town of Newbury, next lec- 
ture day, from the ringing of the first bell, till 
the minister be ready to begin prayer, with a 
paper on her head, having on it, written in 
large capital letters, FOR TAKING A FALSE 
OATHE. She is taken to prison, to be held in 
7 



74 



custody, till the sentence is executed. If you 
are disposed to think the penalty too light for 
the crime, you will remember that the culprit is 
a woman, perhaps of some standing and char- 
acter, and the mortification must be extreme, to 
stand as if in a pillory, and be gazed at, for an 
hour, by all her neighbors and town's people, as 
a false, perjured woman. 

Manufacturers. 

Among the manufacturers in town, in the pro- 
gress of this century, are mentioned, ropemakers, 
coopers, gunsmiths, wheelwrights, carpenters, 
glovers, tailors, soapmakers, malsters, ship build- 
ers, tanne^rs, curriers. No shoemakers are men- 
tioned ; probably, for the reason that the inhabi- 
tants made their own shoes, principally, if not 
wholly. At a much later period, a man of years 
remembers that there were travelling workmen, 
who cut and fitted shoes for families, and occa- 
sionally finished them. 

The first saw mill erected in Ipswich; was on 
Chebacco river, 1656. The conditions of the 
grant were, that there be liberty for cutting 
timber, (on commoners' wood land,) provided 
none be cut within 3 1-2 miles of the meeting 
house, and the town have 1-15 of what is sawed, 
and no inhabitant be charged more than 4 per 
cent. 



75 



Nine years after, Jonathan Wade is allowed to 
have one an the same river. 

1667. Thomas Burnham is permitted to erect 
one near the falls ; but not so as to injure Mr. 
Wade's. Four years after, another is erected by 
William Story. 

1682. Jonathan Wade is allowed to set up 
one at the falls. 

1687. John, son of Thomas Burnham, re- 
moves his mill so as to be near George Story's. 
No saw mill is mentioned during this century, 
in any other part of the town : and no grist 
mill is erected here until 1693, when John Burn- 
ham, Jr. had leave to erect one at " the launch- 
ing place." This was, doubtless, " the launching 
place " below the falls, to which the new road 
leads, as the remains of the dam are still to be 
seen there. Why it was that during this cen- 
tury all the sawing was done here, and all the 
grinding on Ipswich river, we have no means of 
learning. That the saw mills were on this river, 
might have been the reason why the first vessel, 
or fishing boat, was built here. Or, what is more 
probable, the building of. vessels here, was the 
reason why so many saw mills were erected. 

1668. Twelve years after the first saw mill 
was erected, the town grant " One acre of ground, 
near Mr. Cogswell's farm, to the inhabitants of 



76 



Ipswich, for a yard to build vessels, for the use 
of the inhabitants, and to employ workmen for 
that end." 

This is pretty conclusive evidence, that our 
ancestors here had already begun to build ves- 
sels, as it seems altogether improbable, that a 
ship yard would have been granted by the town, 
if it had not been asked for, and equally im- 
probable that it would have been petitioned for, 
if the building of vessels was wholly unknow^n 
here. This acre for a ship yard, was near the 
present bridge, Mr. Cogswell's farm came up 
to the main road, on the north side of Spring 
street ; but on the south side only as far as the 
brook, back of the first burying ground, and to 
the creek, into which this brook runs. The ship 
yard, then, to be near Mr. Cogswell's farm, must 
have extended from some point near the mouth 
of this creek, south-westerly on the bank of the 
river, probably 20 rods, and eight rods back from 
the river. As it was then partly covered with 
timber, and bounded by marked trees, the 
bounds, through want of care, became oblit- 
erated. 

First Chebacco Boat. 
Tradition says, that the first Chebacco boat 
was built by a Burnham, in the garret of an 
ancient house, which stood where is now the 



77 



house of Daniel Mears, south-west corner of the 
old and new road to Manchester ; and that the 
garret window had to be cut away before they 
could launch her. An aged man, Parker Burn- 
ham, says that when a child^ about 1770, he dis- 
tinctly remembers hearing his grandfather, then 
very aged, relate this fact to his father. This 
grand-parent was born about 1690. He had 
probably himself received the fact from parental 
or ancestral lips. Another part of the tradi- 
tional account of this first boat, derived from 
another source, is, that the summer after she 
was built, a man and a boy, Burnhams, of course, 
as she was built by that name, went in her to 
Damaris Cove, about 120 miles, for a fare of 
fish. If we are disposed to doubt whether both 
of these fiicts can be true, we must wait till we 
better know the structure of the house, and 
the size of its garret, and of the boat, before we 
can safely set aside the tradition of the fathers. 
It is certain there was a first Chebacco boat 
built for fishing, and a Jirst trip of this first 
boat. And we may as well take the ancient 
tradition concerning the matter, as any modern 
suppositions. 

First Fishing Yoyage. 
As the season is pleasant, and the trip a novel 
one, we will accompany this enterprising skipper, 



n 



and his youthful companion^ down the eastern 
shore, and see how they succeed in taking a fare 
of fish. It is early in June. The storms of 
spring have passed away, and summer's days 
begin to shed their balmy influence on land and 
water. As our new vessel is to sail very early in 
the morning, if the wind is fair, she is taken 
down the river, as far as the horse bridge, the 
night before. The morning comes, and the sum- 
mer breeze is from the west. We must be at 
the bridge at early dawn, to go on board with 
the captain and his boy. The ship is small, and 
will carry bi:t two or three tons. But as our 
spirits are light, we shall not much trouble her 
with our weight, so we may take our stand upon 
the forecastle, nnperceived by either of the 
crew. Our vessel is of a pecuUar shape, sharp 
at both ends, though not designed to sail either 
way, as a superficial observer might think. She 
is pink stern, and possesses a good rudder, the 
tiller of which is grasped by our skipper, as soon 
as all sails are set, and all hands on board, and 
she is loosed from her fastening. We are soon 
under waj^, with a stiff breeze, and rapidly pass 
the objects on shore, among which are here and 
there groups of half naked Indians, old and 
young, whose curiosity is excited at the sight of 
our boat, with her wide-spread canvass. The 



79 



islands appear in all their beauty, covered with 
verdure, ajid bearing lofty trees, except here 
and there the clearings made by the natives. 




We cross the bar, and as we launch out into the 
bay, the sun is just lifting his broad and ruddy 
face out of the ocean, shedding his glorious 
beams over the vast expanse of waters, and tip- 
ping the hill tops, and summits of the woods, 
with his yellow rays. As we come upon the 
swelling sea, our little bark feels the heaving 
influence, and begins to roll and pitch, with 



80 



some degree of violence ; yet she bears herself 
nobly, as she rides over the waves. Some little 
fear might trouble the minds of our skipper 
and his boy, as they are somewhat green in the 
business, did not the rolling of the boat pro- 
duce some rolhng and heaving of the stomach, 
which occupies their attention. But they hold 
on to their post of duty, sensible that life is de- 
pending on it. Our spirits, happily, though in 
sympathy with our sea-sick crew, and partaking 
of the rolling and pitching of the boat, yet are 
not affected with the sea malady, and have, 
therefore, nothing to do, but to look abroad, and 
enjoy the sublime scene before us ; — the moun- 
tain waves of the dark rolling deep, the azure 
vault of heaven, in which the glorious sun, the 
king of day, is pursuing his wonted course. We 
adore the wisdom and power of Him who spreads 
out the heavens like a curtain, and holds the 
waters in the hollow of his hand. Here and 
there a sail is seen in the distance, seeming to 
rest upon the waters like a swan, laving its 
wings. The policy of our skipper is to keep 
near shore, so he puts the helm for New Hamp- 
shire's port. As we glide over the waves, we 
leave Plumb Island on our left, and soon the 
Isle of Shoals on our right, and at mid-day dis- 
cover the village of Portsmouth, and see before 



8L 



us blue Agamenticus. Our crew make but a 
slender repast at noon. The sight of food is 
almost enough, though their stomachs are be- 
coming much calmer. This may be owing to 
the comparative calmness of the sea. The wind 
has died away. Our vessel rocks but little, and 
has, indeed, but little motion of any kind. This 
to sailors, is what the giving out of a horse upon 
the road is to the traveller. We lay becalmed 
for an hour or two, when suddenly the sky be- 
gins to be overcast with dark and threatening 
clouds, and peals of distant thunder are heard. 
A fresh breeze springs up from the north : this 
induces our skipper to run for Portland, to avoid 
the danger of a squall. The thunder is nearer 
and nearer, and the lightning more and more 
vivid. The wind rises ; the ocean swells ; our 
miniature vessel rocks violently ; alternately she 
mounts and descends, yet riding securely the 
foaming waves. Tremulous and frail as she ap- 
pears, she yet proves a safe as well as fast sailer, 
and might frighten a landsman to death, before 
she would sink him. We are soon inside of 
land, safely moored in Portland harbor. The 
storm is more and more violent. The rains de- 
scend in torrents ; our crew shelter themselves 
in the cuddy. But we are not long held in this 
uncomfortable state. The clouds begin to break 



82 



and disperse ; the sky becomes clear, almost as 
quickly jis it gathered blackness. The sun, de- 
scending to the horizon with his broad disc, 
pours forth his rays with softer beauty, and 
paints upon the opposite vapor, a bow of va- 
riegated, enchanting colors, extending in a splen- 
did arch across the sky, resting with either foot 
upon the ocean. We leave the harbor, and turn 
our course easterly, for our destined cove. 
Night closes in with its dark blue vault, studded 
with listening; stars, affordino; sufficient lig-ht for 
our pilot ; especially the north star, ever staid 
and steady, on which he keeps an inquisitive 
eye. He is careful to keep far enough from 
land to avoid all breakers, and have good sea 
room. Before midnight, we are off the mouth 
of the Kennebeck, and soon pass the many 
coves between that and the Damariscotta. Our 
skipper seems well acquainted with the coast. 
He has probably been here before, in some 
vessel from Salem, or Boston, to fight the east- 
ern Indians. He steers straight for Damaris 
Cove Island, and entering its snug little harbor, 
anchors for the night. This island is owned by 
a Knight of the east, who has cleared up a little 
farm at the head of the harbor, and is prepared 
with his flakes for drying his neighbor's fish, at 
the rate of 1-16 for curing. 



83 



We anticipate the approach of morning, and 
are on our way out of the harbor, for fishing, by 
the time the first streaks of light are breaking 
from the east. We are soon upon the ground, 
and busy with our lines. The fish are very 
plenty, and very hungry. We have a good haul, 
and our little boat is soon loaded, and on her 
way to the beautiful little harbor. The Knight 
of the island and our skipper, are soon acquaint- 
ed. The fish are all dressed and salted, and 
laid upon the flakes to be dried ; and we are on 
our way by noon for another load. As we come 
upon the ground, we find some down east boys, 
with their lines in the water. They look with 
an inquisitive eye upon our Chebacco sailer, — 
their expressive countenances seeming to say, 
*' that is a queer sort of water animal." But we 
stay not for criticisms. Handsome is that hand- 
some does. Our fish are soon again dancing 
upon the deck ; and with a second load we make 
for the island. 

After a few such days of toil and success, we 
are ready for a homeward voyage, with a cargo 
of excellent cod. Having rested for the night, 
we set sail in the morning with a long day be- 
fore us. Our course is very zig-zag, as the wind 
is against us. With a heavy load, and head 
wind, and home in our eye, our patience is much 



m 



tried with our slow progress. But the east 
winds of spring are not all expended. By after- 
noon we have a fresh breeze, which puts us on 
with good speed. As night comes on, we are so 
well on our way, that we conclude to keep run- 
ning till we make our own river. The day is 
wholly gone : but a beautiful night scene sup- 
plies its place. The moon looks down upon the 
placid waves, and, 

" With more pleasing light, shadowy sets off the face of things.." 

As we look up, and gaze upon the multitude of 
stars that fill the heavens, we are ready to ex- 
claim with the Psalmist, " When I consider the 
heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and 
the stars which thou hast ordained. Lord, what 
is man, that thou art mindful of him, or the son 
of man that thou visitest him." 

By the guiding hand of Providence, we safely 
reach our own bay, and entering the river, 
anchor for the night by Cross's Island. In the 
morning, by the help of the flowing tide, we 
reach the horse bridge, arid are soon greeted by 
friends and neighbors. Some of the same lips, 
that with lengthened visage, and mournful ac- 
cents, prophesied that we should never see home 
again, now greet us with the joyful words, " Well, 



m 



there ! I thought so ! I bieiu you would make 
out well.'* 

The news of our arrival and success, spreads 
from house to house. Fishing boats and fish 
become the topics of the day. Several are de- 
termined to enter into the business, some talk of 
building at their doors six or seven tons, pro- 
vided there is a prospect of drawing so large a 
vessel to the launching place. Some express a 
wish that the town would grant them a ship yard. 
Others think they shall not be able to do with- 
out one much longer, and one or two more saw 
mills beside. 

Death and Burial of Me. Cogswell. 

John Cogswell, Sen., died Nov. 29th., 1669, 
aged about 72. We will go to the good man's 
burial. Many neighbors and acquaintances are 
assembled within, and about the house. He lies 
in his coffin, upon a' table in the best room of 
the house, which he had erected with so much 
care, and in which he had enjoyed so much 
comfort and peace. There sits his weeping 
widow, and mourning children and grandchil- 
dren. You raise the lid of the coffin, and gaze 
upon the ghastly features of him, who, but short- 
ly before was busy, active, and useful, having 
a leading part in all the affairs of the town. You 
8 



8fr 



call to mind the sacrifices he made for his re- 
ligion and his God^ in coming from a home of 
plenty and elegance in the city of London, to 
this wilderness of savage beasts, and more sav- 
age men ; exchanging the counting-room of the 
merchant for a log cabin, and a field of rough 
unbroken soil, to be subdued only by the labors 
of many a weary day. You look with admira- 
tion on the remains of such a sainted spirit, so 
justly venerated by his children, and all who 
knew him, and so heartily mourned for, by her 
who had shared his sufferings, and enjoyed his 
comforts. Both of his beloved pastors are pres- 
ent. Rev. Mr. Cobbet, and Rev. Mr. Hubbard, 
with other principal men of the church. The 
ministers and assembly sit in silent meditation. 
You may, perhaps, be expecting a sermon, or a 
long exhortation, from one or both of the minis- 
ters; but our pious fathers having suffered so 
much from their Episcopal brethren of the 
Church of England, were desirous of getting as 
far from them as they could, in all forms and 
ceremonies^ and, therefore, would not preach at 
a funeral, nor have any services but a prayer, 
A few words only are now addressed by Mr. Hub- 
bard to the mourning family, and then a solemn, 
and deeply affecting prayer is offered by Mr. 
Cobbet, the senior pastor. It is early in the 



m 



day, for the way to the sanctuary of the dead is 
long and tedious, not less than five miles. The 
centre of Ipswich was the place where our pious 
fathers went regularly to meeting on the Sal> 
bath, and once a week to the Thursday lecture. 
In Ipswich, therefore, they must bury their dead, 
fast by the house of God ; the way to which 
seemed shorter for being so often trodden. 

The dead, too, must be borne all the way upon 
the shoulders of men ; for no carriage was then 
to be had; and if one could have been pro- 
cured, our ancestors would have thought the 
dead dishonored, by being drawn to the grave 
by a beast. But the time is come for the pro- 
cession to set forth. The widow and children 
take a last lingering look at that dear counte- 
nance, which had so often cheered them by its 
smiles, now ghastly in death ; and then he is 
borne out of his house to return no more. You 
look out of the window to see the procession 
formed. The men and the women do not walk 
together, such is the custom of the day; but 
the men go first, two and two, after the corpse, 
because the deceased is a male. If it had been 
a woman to be buried, women would have gone 
first. The male relatives walk first, and then 
the female mourners behind them, some of them 
mounted on horses because of the weary dis- 






tance. Behind them, the male part of the neigh- 
bors, and citizens, and last of all, female ac- 
quaintances, riding often more than one upon 
the same beast. Six neighbors, of a similar age 
to the deceased, take hold of the pall, while 
younger men bear the corpse by turns, often re- 
lieving each other of the heavy burden, and by 
the side of the whole, is a file of some half 
dozen men, with their pikes and muskets, as a 
guard against their savage neighbors. In this 
silent and solitary manner, they bore the de- 
ceased to the old burying ground in Ipswich, 
where his ashes now slumber, with that of nu- 
merous others from this place, comprising all 
who died here the first half century, after the 
settlement began. 

Indian Wars. 

In 1675, began the war with Philip, an Indian 
chief, in Plymouth colony, who, for some time, 
had used measures to persuade the Indians in all 
parts of New England, to unite against the Eng- 
lish. The eastern Indians also, about the same 
time, commenced hostilities, and butchered many 
individuals, and some whole families. 

The Indians also, bor'dering upon the Merri- 
mack river, feeling themselves injured, by the 
increase and spread of the English, once more 



80 



resumed the bloody tomahawk. They entered 
the villages of Chelmsford and Woburnj and 
put to death every inhabitant they contained, 
sparing not the infant at the breast. They 
attacked and killed several of the inhabitants of 
Haverhill and Bradford. Captives were carried 
away, some of whom had marvellous escapes, 
and returned again to their friends. On the 
Merrimack, near Concord, a young woman, six- 
teen years of age, was taken prisoner. She 
gave on her return, the following account : " On 
the morning when I was taken, the family in 
which I resided, having been told that a party 
of Indians had been seen the day before, set me 
to watch on a hill near the house, that I might 
alarm the family if I saw them coming. About 
noon, I saw them coming up the hill in great 
haste, and endeavored to evade them by running 
into a thicket. But, as they had observed me 
before on the hill, they found me, after a few 
moments search, and compelled me to go with 
them to their settlement, about 40 miles off. 
Having arrived there, they told me I must re- 
main, and become their squaw, and dress and 
cook their victuals. I staid with them about 
three weeks, during which time, they made 
several expeditions against the English, and 
brought home with them a great number of 
8* 



90 



human scalps. On the night of the 6th of De- 
cember, they returned with six horses, which 
they had stolen from the English. Having turned 
these into a small enclosure, they set out on a 
new expedition. After they were well away, I 
stole out, and caught, and mounted one of these 
horses, making use of a strip of bark for a 
bridle. I rode all that dreary night through a 
wild and pathless wood, and reached Concord at 
seven o'clock the next morning." 

A boy, captured about the same time, escaped 
from the Indians, and though but ten years of 
age, travelled 60 miles through an uninhabited 
wood, living on acorns ! Not only were the 
frontier towns in almost constant alarm, but all 
others partook in a greater or less degree of the 
panic. When their war parties came so near as 
Haverhill and Salisbury, killing the defenceless 
women and children, and burning their houses, 
our ancestors in this place could not but par- 
take of the general anxiety. Several, on differ- 
ent occasions, were called into the army, and went 
in pursuit of the savages far from their homes. 
John Cogswell, son of John who had taken the 
lease of the School Farm, was taken prisoner by 
the Indians, some time in October, 1676, during 
an expedition to the eastward. Some years after, 
a man by the name of Dicks, of this place, was 
killed near Casco. 



90l 



Mode of Living. 

We will spend a day at Wm. Goodhue's, whose 
house stood near the present dwelling of Wm. Mar- 
shall, Jr., in the north district. Without ceremony, 
we will call at an early hour. As welcome guests, 
we are invited to sit down with the family to 
breakfast, on a plentiful dish of bean porridge. 
Each has a pewter basin and spoon before him, 
which is filled to the brim, from the large iron 
kettle standing upon the hearth. Some Indian 
hoe cake is added to the repast. Having break- 
fasted, thanks are given, and mercies supplicated, 
in prayer to Him, who is the source of all good. 
While the hired men repair to the field for 
making hay, the father tarries a while, and 
gathers the children around him for reading and 
spelling. A portion of an hour, spent in this 
way, after each repast, is all the schooling the 
times will allow. The women, having set the 
house in order, proceed to their daily employ- 
ment. One repairs to the loom in the chamber, 
and begins the wholesome task of throwing the 
shuttle, which vies with time in its swiftness. 
Another arranges the spinning wheel, and com- 
mences that music, which, if it does not delight 
the ear, will clothe and warm the body. The 
younger ones are busily employed in knitting. 



m 



By and by, the men and boys come in from the 
field for their luncheon of bread and cheese. 
The large pewter mug is set on, full of malt 
beer, out of which, they all drink in turn. " I 
wish," says one of the hired men, ^^ we could 
have a little strong water. I was up at Good- 
man White's the other day, and he gave all 
hands a little, which put us in fine spirits, and 
spurred us on mightily in our work, while it 
lasted : and if we could have had a little now 
and then, it seems to me, we should have done 
double the work." " But an order," says Mr. 
Goodhue, "has come from our great, and General 
Court, forbidding us to give wine or liquors to 
our workmen, because it gets them into an evil 
practice, and trains up the young, by degrees, to 
habits of excess. You feel better on strong 
water for a while, and so much worse after that 
to make up for it. And then you want more 
and more, the longer you take it, till you get to 
be a drunkard ; or, at least, you are always in 
danger of this. The only safe way, is never to 
drink any." " But the law," replies the work- 
man, " forbids it, except when it is necessary. 
Now, I think, if it is ever necessary, it is in the 
winter, on very cold days, and in the summer, 
when mowing, on very hot mornings." " But 
the law," replies Mr. G., " means, by its being 



m 



necessary, when people are not very well." 
" Then I ought to have some/' says another, 
"for my stomach is mighty weak." "And I, 
too/' says another, " for at times I feel weak all 
over." " At this rate/' says Mr. G., " you will 
make it out that it is necessary all the time, and 
then what is the law good for?" But they 
must hasten to the field, and make hay while 
the sun shines. 

At length, the hour for dinner has come ; for 
the sun lies in square at the window. Anna has 
been watching the mark for 12, and hastened 
her dinner, so as to be in season. She blows the 
horn at the door, and all in the field, and in the 
house, hear the welcome sound, and hasten to 
the social board. The dinner is of soup, or the 
liquor in which salt meat or pork has been 
boiled, thickened with meal, together with some 
vegetables. The dish and the plates are of pew- 
ter. The drink, of malt beer. This is their 
daily fare. After dining, the children again 
read and spell. The labors of the day are then 
resumed. " Come, girls, says the mother, you 
know the law requires that we spin three pounds 
of flax, three of wool, and three of cotton every 
month, or pay our fine. But the worst ^ne 
would be, the shame of not doing so well as our 
neighbors. Our class-leader, Goodwife Brad- 



^i 



street will be here this afternoon, to do her duty, 
and see how we get along. Let us make the 
wheels go with a good loud hum, and reel off 
all we can. 

The day now begins to decline, and as night 
draws on, the cows are brought up for milking. 
A good supper of hasty pudding and milk fol- 
lows. In the evening, as the workmen rest 
themselves a little before bed time, the conver- 
sation turns on the use of tobacco. " It seems to 
me," says a young man, who was getting on the 
wrong side of thirty, without any signs of estab- 
lishing himself in a family state, "that a few 
whiffs from a good pipe, does much to rest one 
after a hard day's work. I learned to smoke in 
England, and could never see any harm in it. I 
don't understand why your law is so severe 
against it, that I must wholly leave smoking, or 
be liable to a fine of 10s. every time I buy any 
tobacco. Some, I find, do get round the law by 
raising it in their gardens. But this does not 
help a stranger. It seems to me that some of 
you are as much afraid of tobacco as of rum." 
" "VVe are so, indeed," says Mr. G., " for we have 
marked, that, too commonly, those who like the 
one, like the other. And here let me remind you 
of the law among us, that requires every single 
man to put himself under the supervision and con- 



95 



trol of some head of a family, as it seems to me you 
are in great, danger of its pains and penalties." 

But it is time for us, reader, to retire. And 
in leaving this worthy family, we must not 
think that we have been treated impolitely, 
because they kept the wheels, and the loom, 
the scythe and the rake, going so fast, that 
we had but little time to talk with them; or 
because they did not give us coffee or tea, or 
nice cake, for these things were never heard of 
till more than a hundred years after. 

Formation of the Second Parish in Ipswich. 

In the year 1676, the people of this place 
began to talk in earnest of seceding from the 
parish in the centre of the town, and of becom- 
ing a parish by themselves. They had now, for 
more than forty years, travelled over difficult 
roads, four or five, and some of them six or 
seven miles, to their place of worship. The 
fathers and mothers who had fled from persecu- 
tion in England, and knew by contrast the value 
of freedom of conscience, thought but little of 
the tediousness of the way to the house of God ; 
especially as they were sensible that they could 
not sustain the institutions of the Gospel any 
nearer to their homes. But their children, less 
sensible of the value of religious privileges, were 



98 



less inclined to make so great a sacrifice to 
enjoy them. The consequence was, a growing 
disposition to tarry at home on the Sabbath. It 
was thiS; perhaps, chiefly, which stirred up the 
more considerate and religious among them, to 
take measures for the establishment of the Gos- 
pel ministry in this place ; which they were now 
sufficiently numerous and able to sustain. Accord- 
ingly, in February, 1677, they held a meeting 
for consultation on this subject, at the house of 
William Cogswell, which stood a little north of 
the dwelling now occupied by Albert and Jona- 
than Cogswell, on the same side of the way. 
The record of this meeting, is the beginning of 
our first parish record, which contains several 
interesting documents and entries, of the pro- 
ceedings of our fathers, in relation to their sepa- 
ration from the first church and parish in town. 
Their mode of writing and spelling, and use of 
capitals, differed from ours. For our own con- 
venience, the extracts we may make from this 
record, will be chiefly in the modern style. One 
or two of the shorter ones, will be given in the 
ancient style as a specimen. 

The date of the first meeting is in the record, 
February, 1676. But the year at that time, did 
not begin till the 25th of March, and so con- 
tinued, till altered by an act of Parliament, in 



97 



1752, when the year was ordered to begm Jan- 
uary Istj apd eleven days were added to it, so 
as to make February 3d., (for example,) Feb- 
ruary 14th. The date, then, of February, 1676, 
was, in our style, February, 1677. To prevent 
confusion in regard to the years, we shall place 
the new style under the old, where a difference 
occurs; thus, February I677. 

" At this meeting," says the record, " the in- 
habitants of Chebacco, considering the great 
straits they were in, for want of the means of 
grace among themselves, unanemously agreeing, 
and drawing up a petetion and presented it to 
the towne of Ipswich, at a publick towne meet- 
ing, which was to desire of the towne that they 
might have liberty to call a minester to preach 
among themselves : but the towne would not 
grant it, neither did they seeme to refuse it, but 
would not vote concerning it." 

In conversation with some of the leading men 
of the town, the people here were given to un- 
derstand, that they had no objection to their 
having preaching among them, especially if they 
continued to support the ministry in Ipswich. 
But still as a town, they would not vote for, or 
against the prayer of the petitioners. This made 
it necessary for them to carry their petition to 
the General Court. The Court refused to grant 
9 



the petitioiij but recommended them to make 
further application to the town, and the town to 
give their answer at the next session of the 
Court. This the town did, and the result was 
that the Court judged not meet to grant the 
petition at present, but recommended to the 
town " as soon as may be, to contrive the accom- 
modation of the petitioners in the matter peti- 
tioned for." This was October, 1677. 

The next town meeting was held, as the Ke- 
cord says, February 19, 1677 ; new style, March 
2, 1678 ; at which the town voted that the 
Selectmen confer with the Chebacco neighbors, 
about what they petitioned, and report at the 
next town meeting. The inhabitants here chose 
William Cogswell, John Andrews, Thomas Low, 
and William Goodhue, a committee to confer 
with the Selectmen. Several conferences were 
held, but without any decisive result. At length, 
when they requested of the Selectmen leave to 
call Mr. Jeremiah Shepard to preach among 
them, a part of the Selectmen assented, and the 
rest made no objection. The call was extended 
to Mr. Shepard, January 19, 1679, who came, and 
preached in a private house. Finding that no 
private house was sufficiently large to accommo- 
date the people, " They agreed to build a plain 
house, and, if they could obtain leave of the 
town or Court, to put it to the use of a meeting 



99 



house : if not, to some other use." But before 
this was done, Mr. Shepard gave notice after the 
religious services of the Sabbath, that he had 
received a letter from an honorable brother in 
Ipswich, saying that the church there was dis- 
satisfied with the proceedings of the brethren 
here, and therefore he should desist from preach- 
ing. Upon this, the people here again peti- 
tioned the town, but without effect. This pe- 
tition is dated February 4, IGVg. 

On the 15th of the next March, the Select- 
men, in behalf of the town, sent to the General 
Court a petition and address, in which they 
make many heavy charges against the people of 
Chebacco. The charges are contained in the 
following reply, which, as it was addressed to the 
Honored Court, who had the Ipswich document 
before them, and in the issue were favorably 
inclined toward the people here, we may believe 
contained a true statement of the charges, and a 
proper and sufficient reply to them. 

" A declaration and vindication of the transactions of 
the inhabitants of Chebacco^ in the precincts of 
Ipsiuich, in reference to their late proceedings in 
obtaining the ministry of the gospel among them. 
May 28, 1679. 

This Honored Court may please to remind 
that the inhabitants of Chebacco have once and 



100 



again applied ourselves to your Honors, that we 
mio:ht be eased of our lono* and tiresome Sab- 
bath day's journeys to the place of public wor- 
ship in our town, humbly hoping that your 
Honors would so far sympathize with us, and 
favor our shattered condition as to grant us 
relief, and we cannot but gratefully acknowledge 
your fatherly care, especially in our last applica- 
tion of ourselves to this Honored Court, in seri- 
ously recommending our case to the town of 
Ipswich : that our friends and neighbors there 
might relieve your humble supplicants in the 
matter petitioned for, that so we might obtain 
the ministry of the word amongst ourselves, 
which is our hearts desire ; but contrary to the 
direction of this honored Court, and cross to 
our expectations, our friends and neighbors in 
the town were regardless of our suffering condi- 
tion : whereupon, after due waiting, and due 
deliberation, we did apply ourselves to the town, 
February 19, 1677, to be informed whether or 
no, they would accommodate us according to the 
direction of this Honored Court ; our necessity, 
also, calling for relief, the town did take so far 
cognizance of our demand, as to refer our case 
to the Selectmen, to consider with us what might 
be best for our accommodation ; whereupon, we 
had a treaty with the Selectmen : but the Select- 



101 



men turned us going, with dilatory answers, 
which were : 

1. They alleged that those farmers towards 
Wenham, were they that were meant by the 
General Court that they should be accommo- 
dated with us : we replied, that could not be, 
because the return from the General Couit was 
that we should be accommodated amongst our- 
selves in the matter petitioned for, which was a 
meeting house amongst ourselves, and we did 
not care how many neighbors joined with us, 
provided that we might have the means of grace 
amongst ourselves. 

2. They alleged that the war was not yet 
past, and God's judgments were yet hanging 
over us, and the town was at great charge ; — to 
which we replied, that when we sought to have 
the means amongst ourselves, we looked at it 
as our duty, and therefore, when the judgments 
of God were amongst us, that it was rather an 
argument to stir us up to our duty than to lie 
under the omission of it : neither would we put 
the town to charge, either to erect our meeting 
house, or maintain our minister. 

3. They alleged we belonged to the town, and 
therefore, were obliged to help the town to bear 
the charges, and they could not spare our money ; 
to which we replied, that they alleged at the 

9* 



102 



General Court, that we payed but 17 or 18 
pounds to the ministers of Ipswich, and there 
were three ministers to whom the town payed 
200 pounds per annum, and if the town would 
supply us with one of them, we would pay one 
of them 50 pounds towards his maintenance 
yearly. Then they replied, that could not be, 
and that our want was only in the winter, and if 
we could get a minister to preach to us in the 
winter, they would free us from paying to the 
ministers in the town, in the winter season, and 
we should come to the public worship in the 
town in the summer, and pay there. 

This last proposition was the most rational 
and candid that we have yet obtahiied : which 
hath been a grand encouragement in caUing a 
minister to accommodate us this last winter sea- 
son; though we are now considered heinous 
transgressors in so doing. 

4. They alleged, that the Kev. Mr. Hubbard, 
their teacher, was gone to England, and they 
desired us to wait till he came home again : we 
answered, the direction from the General Court 
came a considerable time before the Rev. Mr. 
Hubbard took his voyage to England; yet if 
they would engage to supply us as soon as the 
Rev. Mr. Hubbard came from England, we were 
wilhng patiently to wait : which we have done ; 



103 



but as yet feel no relief. Thus having applied 
ourselves to the Honored General Court, who 
seriously recommended our case to the town of 
Ipswich; and they referring the agitation of our 
case to the selectmen, and they making a propo- 
sition to us to provide a minister for the winter, 
and the extremity of the winter season putting 
us upon great inconveniences, in regard of our 
attending public worship in the town, whereupon 
we were put upon a kind of necessity to seek 
for relief, if possibly we could obtain the means 
amongst ourselves ; and, accordingly, we applied 
ourselves to Mr. Shepard to help us in our pres- 
ent exigency, till the winter season was over, 
engaging to pay our wonted dues to the town 
as formerly, as also to recompense Mr. Shepard 
for his labors. We applied ourselves to him 
January 1, 1678. Mr. Shepard taking our mo- 
tion into consideration, and after some space of 
time we desiring his answer, he told us he was 
willing to see his way clear, and therefore desired 
us to consult with those that were betrusted 
with the affairs of the town, that he might un- 
derstand how they approved of our proceedings : 
whereupon, some of the principal of our inhabi- 
tants, who had the betrustment of this affair, 
obtained a meeting of the Selectmen, January 
9, 1678 : they desired liberty to call a minister to 



im 



preach with us at Chebacco, and having per- 
mission from the Selectmen^ none of them con- 
tradicting our motion, they again applied them- 
selves to Mr. Shepardj importuning him to help 
uSj according to our former request: we obtained 
his labors, and were willing to encourage our- 
selves that we should still enjoy him ; comfort- 
ing ourselves in this, that we hoped we should 
obtain both the pity and favor of this Honored 
General Court, and accordingly we put ourselves 
in a posture for the entertaining the gospel, and 
were willing to lay aside our self interests, that 
we might build a house for the worship of God, 
which we were the more vigorous in, by reason 
that we had experienced much in a little time 
of the sweetness and good of that privilege in 
enjoying the means amongst ourselves, whereby 
the generality of our inhabitants could com- 
fortably attend the public worship of God ; of 
which some hundreds do not, nor, with con- 
venience, can attend the public worship at town ; 
and of so considerable a number of the inhabi- 
tants as are amongst us, scarce fifty persons the 
year throughout, do attend the public worship 
of God on the Sabbath days. The house that 
we have been busied about, for the place of pub- 
lic worship, was ever intended for such an end, 
always with this provisal, that this Honored 



105 



Court do authorize the same, or countenance 
our proceeiclings therein : if not, we shall ever 
own ourselves loyal subjects to authority ; and 
therefore the same is erected upon a propriety, 
that if this Honored Court see not meet to favor 
our proceedings, we may turn our labors to our 
best advantage. This Honored Court may fur- 
ther be informed that after we had enjoyed the 
benefit of Mr. Shepard's labors for some con- 
siderable time, a man of principal worth in the 
town, sent a letter to him, which signified that 
offence was taken at our proceedings, which let- 
ter has date, February 19, 1678, which Mr. 
Shepard gave us information of, the Sabbath 
day following, and ever since hath desisted 
preaching amongst us, — and information was 
given thereof to our Eeverend Elders at town ; 
yet, notwithstanding, a complaint was exhibited 
against us at the Honored Court of Assistants, 
March 4, 1678, which signified that Mr. Shep- 
ard still continued preaching, and we prose- 
cuting our desires, resolving to enforce our de- 
mands : whereas, Mr. Shepard had for a con- 
siderable time before desisted preaching, and we 
resolving to quiet ourselves with the determina- 
tion of this Honored Court in reference to our 
proceedings : and whereas we are complained 
of to the Honored Court of Assistants, as per- 



106 



sons of more iinpeaceable spirits than those that 
reside in the other Hamlet^ wherein, as is as- 
serted, are persons of worth, &c., which yet are 
so ingenuous as to be quiet hitherto, and not to 
seek a rending of themselves from the body : — 
to which we might reply, that the worthiness of 
our neighbors in the other hamlet, should not 
cause us to derogate from the worth of our poor 
souls, nor prevent us from laboring after the or- 
dinary means of salvation : and whereas their 
ingenuousness is applauded for not seeking a 
rending of themselves from the body, we hope 
our ingenuousness may merit a recommendation 
of the like nature, who do abhor a rending away 
either from the church or town of Ipswich, as 
the town will be sensible of by our rational and 
fair propositions : and whereas it is asserted in 
the complaint that we have acted contrary to 
our agreement with, and engagement to the 
town, April 11, 1678, we reply that we are ut- 
terly ignorant of any engagement, and therefore 
admire that our neighbors should render us so 
scandalous in the face of the country : but we 
hope we may with all good conscience plead our 
innocency in this and all other reflections that 
are cast upon us. These things we desire to 
leave with this Honored Court, as a declaration 
of our cause, and a vindication of our innocency, 



107 



and are ready farther to inform this Honored 
Court in what they may please to demand, or in 
what may be alleged against our proceedings." 

The Court, or rather the Council, notwith- 
standing this able and unanswerable vindication, 
decided that Chebacco should desist from all 
further proceedings in this matter, and sent to 
our fathers an order to this effect. 

But before they received this order, " The sills 
of the meeting house were laid in Mr. William 
Cogswell's land, and the timber in place ready 
to raise." 

Raising the First Meeting House. 

"While we were in this great conflict, that all 
things seemed to act against us, some women, 
without the knowledge of their husbands, and 
with the advice of some men, went to other 
towns, and got help, and raised the house, that 
we intended for a meeting house, if we could 
get liberty." Eec. 18. This was in the Spring 
of 1679. 

This bold and decisive act of the good women, 
though without the knowledge of their hus- 
bands, yet we may be sure was not done without 
much previous whispering and privacy among 
themselves. We may suppose they had a social 
visit at Mrs. Yarney's, just opposite the corner, 



108 



the site of the intended meeting house, on the 
afternoon of the day before the raising, to talk 
over matters, and see what they could do to 
help their husbands out of this trouble. It was 
only a neighborly visit, though some of them 
were from distant parts of the town. 

If you had stood that afternoon at what is now 
the corner of Col. J. P. Choate's lane, you would 
have seen them coming upon their saddles and 
blankets from over the river, across the horse 
bridge, and from the Falls, and from the North 
End, wrapped in their riding hoods, to protect 
them from the chilling blasts of Spring, and 
with countenances betokening important busi- 
ness in hand. As the}^ reach the corner, they 
cast an inquisitive eye upon the timber, lying in 
exact order upon the ground in Mr. Cogswell's 
field, and seeming to invite some skillful, if not 
lair hands, to raise them up and give them union, 
beauty, and strength. The ladies, with an ex- 
pressive eye, seem to respond, " We'll see about 
it. We go for union and annexation." They 
are soon dismounted at Mrs. Varney's door, and 
housed in her best room. It is an important 
meeting, and well attended, though got up with- 
out any public notice. Let not the men any 
longer say that women cannot keep a secret, for 
the whole is planned, and will be executed 



109 



without the knowledge of their husbands. Let 
not the men any longer think that they can 
build a church, or fit it up, without the knowl- 
edge and concurrence of the women. As men 
are not invited to this social gathering, we can- 
not, of course, be present, and have no means of 
knowing what discussions were had, or what 
votes were passed. But we guess that all the 
various difficulties and objections in the way of 
their arduous enterprise, were freely talked over, 
and that, when one spoke of the danger of 
offending the Great and General Court, another 
bright mind and sparkling eye, suggested that 
the Court had not said a word about the ivomen, 
and only forbid the men doing any thing further 
in this matter. Another eloquent tongue re- 
marked, that the order sent by the Court, men- 
tioned only Chehacco men. They had good 
friends in Gloucester and Manchester, who could 
come and raise the house without any danger. 
We guess that Mrs. Martin, and Mrs. Goodhue, 
and Mrs, Yarney, were appointed, or mentioned, 
or volunteered, to be a board of managers to 
go, — one to Gloucester precinct, the other two 
to Manchester, to raise men, and bring them on 
to the ground the next day. For, early the 
next morning, Mrs. Yarney, mounted on the old 
family horse, with Mrs. Goodhue behind, and 
10 



110 



their hired man Chub, on another horse, to pro- 
tect them, and Abraham Martin and his wife on 
another, were seen riding together, over the 
horse bridge, and returning before noon, with 
parties of men from Manchester, and the pre- 
cint, and conducting them to the timber in the 
corner of Mr. Cogswell's field. Nothing is said 
by the Chebacco folks : but with great alacrity 
and cheer, their neighbors go to work, and join 
timber to timber, and fasten joint to joint, and 
soon a whole broadside is seen going up ; and 
by and by another ; and no stop, no stay, till 
the ridge pole is in its place, and then three 
hearty cheers indicate that the work is done. 
Many women upon horses had arrived before 
the close, with well filled sacks pending from 
their saddles, the contents of which they deposit 
at Mrs. Yarney's. Their kind neighbors from 
abroad are invited to the supper, without any 
other entrance fee than the good frame they 
have been in. The tables are spread with a 
suitable variety ; among which there is a plenty 
of good tongue, 

Chebacco men are scarce that day, so the good 
neighbors have to be thanked for their labor of 
love by the ladies alone. 

On the next Tuesday, the constable came 
down from Ipswich, with the following warrant 
from " our Honored Major General :" 



Ill 



" To the Constable of Ipsivich : — You are hereby- 
required to attach the body of Abraham Martin, 
and John Chub, and bring them before me on 
Tuesday next, about one of the clock, to answer 
for their contempt of authority in helping to 
raise a meeting house at Chebacco. You are 
also, at the same time to bring with you the 
wife of William Goodhue, the wife of Thomas 
Varney, and the wife of Abraham Martin, for 
procuring, or abetting and encouraging the 
raising the said house : and so make return 
hereof under your hand." 

They were accordingly tried in Ipswich, and 
found guilty, and bound over to the next court 
in Salem. But the General Court, having cog- 
nizance of the case, at their session, May 28, 
1679, ordered, that they appear at Salem Court, 
and make their acknowledgment in these words, 
viz. : " That they are convinced that they have 
ofended in soe doeing, for which they are sorry, 
and pray it may be forgiven them, and soe to be 
dismissed without any farther trouble, charge, or 
attendance, in that respect, or farther attend- 
ance on the councell for that theire offence. 
Attests, Edward Eawson, Secretary." 

This Court also chose a committee, consisting 
of Joseph Dudley, Richard Waldron, Anthony 
Stoddard, William Jonson, and Henry Bartholo- 



112 



mew, for the settlement of the business of Che- 
baccOj touchmg the place of public worship 
amongst them, and the settlement of a minister. 
This committee sat here the 23d of July, 16 72, 
and heard the statement of a delegation from 
Ipswich, that the town and the church were 
satisfied with the acknowledgment made by 
those active in raising the meeting house, and 
heard also the reasons presented by them for 
removing Chebacco meeting house nearer the 
centre of Ipswich, to accommodate the people 
at the farms. But the committee, in their de- 
cision, say, that though a removal of the house 
farther toward Ipswich, might accommodate 
some more of the inhabitants, and farmers of 
said town, yet as the people here are competent 
to support a minister by themselves, and the 
proposed removal of the house would greatly 
discommode those living at the head, and over 
the river of Chebacco ; therefore, the place 
where the house now standeth, be, and is, hereby 
allowed by us; and they have liberty to pro- 
ceed to the finishino^ of said meeting- house. 

The committee further say : — 

"Respecting the settlement of an able, pious, 
and orthodox minister among them, for the due 
management of the worship of God, we find, by 
a paper presented to us, that they greatly de- 



113 



sire the settlement of Mr. Shepard, as their 
minister, but as he hath not professed his sub- 
jection to the order of the gospel amongst us, in 
joining to any particular Congregational Church, 
we see not reason at present to advise Mr. Shep- 
ard's preaching or settlement amongst them." 

We see here a continuance of the same fear 
which manifested itself in the first settlement 
of the colony, that Episcopacy, or some other 
church power, should gain the ascendency, and 
triumph over civil freedom. As Congregation- 
alism was purely democratic, it • excited no fears, 
and was ardently cherished. The committee 
farther advised the people here, seriously to con- 
sider, with invocation of God's name, of some 
meet person, learned, able and pious, to manage 
the public worship of God amongst them, and to 
report to them between that and the day before 
the meeting of General Court, in October next. 
At that time, a delegation from this place, ap- 
peared before the committee, and stated, that 
for want of time, or some other considerations, 
Mr. Shepard had not complied with their ad- 
vice ; but that their desires were still towards 
him. Upon which, the committee appointed the 
2d Tuesday in April, 1680, for a further hearing 
of this matter. At that meeting, the delegation 
of this place presented to the above committee, 
10* 



114 



Mr. John Wise, as one in whom they were 
•Qnanimouslj agreed to be their pastor, and who 
was approved and accepted by the committee. 

Mr. Shepard, doubtless, left Chebacco, July, 
1679, according to the advice of the committee; 
otherwise the people here would have become 
offenders by employing him, and would have 
been summoned to court as such. Mr. Shep- 
ard was the son of Rev. Thomas Shepard, of 
Cambridge. He was graduated at Harvard Col- 
lege, 1669. After leaving this place, he was 
settled in Lynn, and continued in the ministry 
there 41 years, being eminent in his profession. 

After leave obtained of the Court, our ances- 
tors doubtless proceeded to finish the meeting 
house, in part, at least, that same summer and 
autumn. As the site of this first house of wor- 
ship is a matter of doubt with some, we give the 
following facts, which show that it must have 
been the lot of land now covered by the house 
and barn of Capt. Joseph Choate. 

The people here petitioned the town, Feb- 
ruary, 1679, for leave to set this house on the 
common land, by Thomas Yarney's, which was 
opposite to where Capt. Choate's house now is. 
This being refused, the sills were laid, says the 
record, on said William Cogswell's land, and the 
timber in place ready to raise. Page 12. 



115 



At a parish meeting, August, 1693, it was 
voted that the two short seats in the meeting 
house be given to WilHam Cogswell and his 
heirs, on (Condition that he, or they, give to the 
parish a legal assurance of land under said house 
and ajoining. Mr. Cogswell's land extended 
from the head of the lane, which is now Spring 
Street, to the head of the lane leading by Col. 
Choate's house, then the road to Gloucester. 

The north-western corner of his field, (now 
Capt. Joseph Choate's house lot,) was near to 
that lot on the common, or parsonage, which our 
fathers selected, but which the town would not 
grant. It was the most central, as the corner 
where three roads met. The deed of Capt. 
Choate's house lot, recognizes the fact of its 
having been owned by Adam Cogswell, a son of 
William, and gives the dimensions 13 rods by 
3, which were suitable for a meeting house lot. 

The record says that the site of that first 
meeting house was four and a half miles from 
Ipswich meeting house, which is precisely the 
distance of Capt. Choate's house, to Ipswich 
north church. 

When the author came here, forty years ago, 
there were several aged people living, whose 
fathers and mothers had worshipped in the first 
house, (as late as 1719,) and whose testimony 



M6 



was, that it stood on the site of Capt. Choate's 
house, which in their younger dajs was called 
Meeting House Hill. 

The second house, built in 1719, was 52 feet 
by 42. From which we may conclude, that the 
first house was somewhere about 42 by 36. It 
faced the west, as we learn from the record ; had 
two doors in front, with wooden latches, and 
*^ good and sufficient strings " for lifting the 
latches. There were galleries on three sides of 
the house : the pulpit stood on the eastern side, 
opposite to the doors, with a solid and elevated 
sounding board, over the head of the preacher, 
and a handsome cushion for the Bible. Only 
two or three pews were built at first ; the rest 
of the floor of the house was covered by long 
and short seats : the same in the galleries. A 
turret was built on the centre of the house, 
^^ after the fashion, and in the proportions of the 
turret in Andover." In this turret a bell was 
hung. 

The salary of the sexton, for ringing the bell, 
and sweeping the house, and setting the bason 
with water, for baptizing, was 20s., and freedom 
from parish taxes. 

The committee of the parish were styled, the 
Selectmen of Chebacco. Their stated business 
was to assess the tax for the support of the min- 



117 



ister, and for defraying other parish expenses. 
Occasionally, they were instructed to see that 
the pulpit cushion was repaired, that the broken 
glass in the windows was mended,' and the 
strings of the doors kept in order, that they 
might be easily shut and opened. 

After the house was so far finished as to be 
convenient for public worship, a committee was 
chosen to dignify the seats ; with instructions to 
begin at the centre seats, as first in dignity, and 
account the others more or less honorable, as 
they approached to, or receded from, the centre. 

Annually, a committee was chosen to seat the 
people in the more or less honorable seats, ac- 
cording to the amount of taxes which they paid, 
or the offices which they filled. If the reader 
is surprised at these aristocratic notions in our 
ancestors, they may find some apology for them 
in the fact that they came from a land of aris- 
tocracy ; or perhaps a better apology in the fact 
that something of the same custom prevails at 
this day ; with this difference only, that people 
now choose for themselves more or less costly 
seats, as best suits their own notions, and thus 
dignify their own seats. In our fathers' days, 
the being set lower than others by the commit- 
tee, because they did not pay so much as their 
neighbors, never sat easy upon them, and there 



118 



were not unfrequent rebellions against the law- 
ful authorities on this account, though the prac- 
tice continued for many years. 

The parish vote that the Selectmen cause 
posts to be set round the house, that Mr. Cogs- 
well's fence may not be damnified by the tying 
of horses. Several flat rocks with steps, were, 
according to the custom of the day, placed in 
convenient position for mounting the horses. 

Dedication of the House. 

Every thing in and about the house being 
thus arranged, and Mr. Wise, whom they had 
chosen to settle with them, having arrived, April, 
1 680, measures are taken for the dedication of 
the house to the service of God. It is on Wednes- 
day, the day usually selected for ordinations 
and dedications. The occasion, as a matter of 
course, excites much interest among the people 
here, who begin early in the day to prepare for 
attendance. Their neighbors in Manchester 
and Gloucester West Parish, who raised the 
house, we may well suppose, were there, with 
many of their friends with them. 

We will go to the North End, and attend the 
dedication. As you approach the house, you see 
many collected, and many others coming, some 
on foot, and some on horse back. The posts are 



119 



all occupied with horses, and Mr. Cogswell is so 
exhilirated with the day, that he will not com- 
plain if his fence suffers a little by the many 
that are fastened thereto. 



Standing opposite to the house, you look up 
and see a plain two story building, with a double 
row of diamond glass windows, and a turret on 
the middle of the ridge pole. The sharp sound 
of the bell tells you that the hour of service is 
near at hand ; you walk up to one of the doors, 
and enter by pulling the string which hangs 



120 



gracefully down. A side aisle is before you, and 
you are shown to the strangers seats. Before 
the service begins, you notice the appearance of 
the inside of the church ; above, all is open to 
the roof; the beams and rafters are of solid 
white oak. The boarding of the roof is new, 
and not yet occupied with the spiders' webs and 
swallows' nests. The walls above the galleries 
are not yet plastered. You look for the singers' 
seats, but such a thing is not even imagined. 
All that can sing in the house, are "the singers." 
The pulpit is plain, but lofty, with a spacious 
window behind, and a massive sounding board 
above, to prevent the voice of the speaker from 
ascending to the ridge pole. In front of the 
pulpit is a high seat, or pew, for the deacons, 
and a pew by the side of the pulpit for the min- 
ister's family. The deacons' seat is empty, as 
the church is not yet organized. One suitable 
to fill the olfice of deacon, is chosen by the 
parish, to read the psalm or hymn, and pitch 
the tune. As you glance at the audience, you 
see the women by themselves on the short 
seats, on both ends of the house. They are 
covered with thin hoods and short cloaks. The 
gentlemen on the long seats in the middle of 
the house are clad in homespun coats and deer- 
skin small clothes, blue or grey stockings, with 



121 



shoes and broad buckles. The whole presents to 
you a very ancient appearance, as yoyrs will to 
posterity, 200 years hence. But soon the minis- 
ter enters and ascends the pulpit. Mr. Wise is a 
tall, stout man, majestic in appearance, of great 
muscular strength ; his voice is deep and strong; 
his sermon is adapted to the occasion ; and by ap- 
propriate, fervent prayer, he consecrates the house 
to God. The singing is apparently by the whole 
assembly, which, though not of the most refined 
kind, is hearty and strong ; books are scarce in that 
day, so the psalm is read for singing, one line at 
a time. After the benediction the numerous 
audience, interested, and, perhaps, edified by the 
services, retire from the sanctuary ; when all the 
friends from abroad are cordially invited by the 
people here, to go with them to their homes to 
partake of the rich repast, which had been pre- 
viously made ready. 

The people of this Parish while they supported 
their own Minister, continued to pay their accus- 
tomed rates for the support of the two Ministers 
in Ipswich, till February 1681. 

In Oct. 1680, they petitioned the Court to be 
set free from paying ministerial taxes in Ipswich, 

In answer to this the Court say : " We judge 
it meet that all the people, inhabitants of Ipswich 
shall continue their several proportions to the 
11 



122 



maintenance of the ministry there, unless those 
of Chebacco be discharged, from payment to the 
ministry of Ipswich, and left to maintain their 
own minister." 

A True Cofy, 

Attest, Edward Eawson, Sec. 

At a town meeting held the 15th of the follow- 
ing February, the town accepted this latter part 
of the Court's order, and discharged Chebacco 
from any farther taxes to support their ministers. 

At this meeting they also defined the boundary 
line between Ipswich, and Chebacco, or between 
the first and second Parishes of Ipswich, viz : from 
the head of Choate's brook to run down to 
Castle Neck river, as the creek runs into the river 
and so to the sea ; also from the head of said 
brook to Marbles', thence including Knight's farm, 
and to run on a straight line from the southerly 
corner of said Knight's farm, to the double U. 
tree on Wenham line, and so on the south east 
upon the neighboring towns to the sea. 

This the Court afterwards so far altered, as to 
have Knight's farm belong to the Hamlet. The 
present bounds do not touch Wenham. At this 
same meeting, February 15, 1680, they granted 
one acre of ground to Chebacco for a grave yard. 

Mr. Wise continues to supply the pulpit stat- 
edly, for more than three years, before he is or- 



123 



dained their pastor. The reason for this delay is 
not stated. Probably the church in Ipswich was 
slow in being reconciled to the thought of parting 
with so many of its members. The members of 
that church residing here sent in a request, dated 
Sept. 6, I68I5 to be dismissed for the purpose of 
being organized into a church in this place. How 
soon this request was granted, does not appear ; 
but the church was not organized here till about 
two years after ; and of course those making the 
request still remained members of Ipswich church 
during that time. 

In Feb, 1682, the parish extended a formal 
call to Mr. Wise to settle with them as their 
pastor. 

Again in May following they chose a Com- 
mittee to treat with him about a settlement. 

They offer him for his support 10 acres of land, 
which they had bought for this purpose of 
Richard Lee, to be is own and his heirs and as- 
signs forever. This was called his settlement ; 
his annual salary was to be £60, or $200, Mn 
money, and | in grain, at the current price, 40 
cords of oak wood by the year yearly, and 8 loads 
of salt hay. In addition to this they agree to 
build, and keep in repair, for his use, a parsonage 
house and barn ; the house to be equal in every 
respect to Samuel Giddings' house ; which seems 



124 



to have been a model house in that day. He was 
also to have the use of the parsonage lands and 
the strangers' contributions. 

This was a generous support. Comparing the 
value of money and grain, and the common style 
of living in that day, with the present, we may safe- 
ly say that it would require at least $800 per an- 
num to support a minister as well at this day. The 
parsonage house stood on the parsonage land, now 
owned by Josiah Low, at the north end of that 
enclosure. The remains of the cellar are still to 
be seen. 

The ten acres given him for his settlement were 
in the rear of the house now owned by John 
Mears, senior. 

Organization op the Church and Ordination 

OF Mr. Wise. 
Mr. Wise, the pastor elect, was born at Rox- 
bury, and educated at Harvard College. He was 
21 years old when he left College. As he did 
not commence preaching here till he was 28, he 
doubtless spent much, if not all, of the interven- 
ing time, in preparing for the Ministry, and in sup- 
plying vacant pulpits. On the day of his ordi- 
nation, Aug. 12, 1G83, he was a little more than 
31 years of age, being born July 1652. The 
Church was organized on the same day of his 



125 



ordination, and by the same Council, which set 
him over it as pastor. 

As William Cogswell^had been a leading man 
in getting up the Parish and Church, and in build- 
ing the Meeting House on his own land, we may 
naturally suppose that the Council met at his 
house, which was not far from the Meeting House, 
on the afternoon of Aug. 11th. 

The first Church Kecord kept by Mr. Wise? 
was lost. We have therefore no copy of the letter 
missive sent to the churches for their attendance 
in Council, and no means of knowing what 
churches were sent to, except in the case of 
Wenham Church ; whose Eecord notices the letter 
to that Church from Chebacco, inviting them to 
be present by their pastor and delegates, to aid 
in organizing a Church, and ordaining Mr. Wise 
as their pastor. This is the only Eecord extant 
of the origin of this Church, Aug. 12, 1683. The 
Wenham Record proceeds to say that the Church 
voted to comply with the request and chose 
Capt. Fiske, George Gott, Deacon Fiske, with 
their pastor Rev. Joseph Gerrish, to attend in the 
proposed Council. 

William Cogswell married Martha, the daugh- 
ter of Rev. John Emerson of Gloucester ; so that 
he was doubtless present with his delegates. 
Rev. Messrs. Cobbet, and Hubbard, formerly the 
11^ 



126 

pastor, and teacher of those who were to be 
gathered into a Church, could not of course be 
absent. Kev. Edward Pay son of Rowly was also a 
native of Eoxbury, a graduate of the same Col- 
lege with Mr. "Wise, and nearly of the same age, 
and was of course invited to be on the Council, 
with his delegates; Rev. Jeremiah Shepard of 
Lynn, who had been with this people in their 
first separation from Ipswich church, and to whom 
they were ardently attached, as a minister of the 
gospel, would also receive an invitation to attend 
the Council. The church in Manchester as a 
near neighbor, and whose good men had kindly 
helped our women in raising the meeting house, 
would not of course be passed by. Their preach- 
er. Rev. Mr. Winborn, was not settled over them 
as pastor, yet he was doubtless present with the 
delegates from that church. The church in Rox- 
bury, in which Mr. Wise had been brought up un- 
der the ministry of the venerated Elliot, styled 
the apostle to the Indians, from his benevolent 
labors among them, we might suppose would be 
invited to be present with their pastor and dele- 
gates, were it not for the great age of Mr. Elliot, 
then in his 80th year, and the difficulty of travel- 
ling so great a distance in that day. 

Aside from the Roxbury church, we have six 
others, who were doubtless here by their pastors 



127 



and delegates^ making a Council of twenty or 
more. Their first business, after organizing at the 
house of Mr. Cogswell, was to examine the docu- 
ments respecting the proposed organization of the 
church ; such as the request of church members 
here to be dismissed, for this purpose, from the 
church in Ipswich, and the vote of Ipswich church 
to grant this request, with the accompanying 
letter of dismission and recommendation. These 
being found regular by the Council, they pro- 
ceed to examine, and pass judgment upon those 
relating to the ordination of Mr. Wise ; the call 
of the Parish extended to him, and his answer, 
his church standing, and letter of dismission and 
recommendation, that he may be a church mem- 
ber here, together with his licensure to preach, 
usually given in that day by some church that 
had examined the candidate. Being satisfied 
with these papers^ the next business of the Council 
is to examine Mr. Wise, as to his theological attain- 
ments and soundness in the faith, and religious 
experience. This examination takes up the rest 
of the day ; and the Council adjourn to an early 
hour in the morning. Assembled in the morning, 
they express by vote their satisfaction with the 
pastor elect, and proceed to designate the minis- 
ters who are to perform the several parts in his 
ordination, and also those who are to lead in the 



128 



services at the organization of the church ; they 
then proceed in procession from Mr. CogswelFs 
to the meeting house. Great numbers are in at- 
tendance from this and the neighboring towns. 

The day is warm and every door and window 
of the house is thrown open ; the bell from the 
turret sends forth its peals with more than usual 
animation; every eye sparkles, every countenance 
brightens ; the crowd at the door open to the 
right and left for the Council to pass in ; then all 
enter that can ; every seat is filled, every aisle 
crowded ; the many without are not far from the 
pulpit, and can readily hear through the open 
doors and windows. The services are all of an 
interesting character to puritan hearts, and are 
listened to with devout attention, especially by 
those who are thus to receive a spiritual watch- 
man and guide. The Council are seated in front 
of the pulpit, the persons to be organized into a 
church are on each side of them, the men on the 
right, the women on the left. Mr. Cobbett the 
oldest minister on the Council, and of course its 
moderator, commences the services by prayer ; he 
then calls upon those who are to be formed into 
a church to rise, that they may in that public and 
solemn manner give their assent to the confession 
of faith, and covenant, previously prepared. The 
confession of faith, is doubtless a brief summary 



129 



of that which had just been adopted by all the 
puritan churches in a general Synod in Boston^ 
and which contains the doctrine of the Triune 
God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; of the native 
and entire depravity of man ; regeneration by 
the Holy Spirit ; justification by fiiith in the 
atoning blood of Christ; the perseverance of the 
saints ; the everlasting happiness of the righteous ; 
the eternal misery of the wicked ; with other kin- 
dred doctrines, involved in them, and growing 
out of them. The covenant administered to 
them, is in these words. 

You do in the name and fear of God (as in the presence of God, men and 
Angels,) take God, Jehovah, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, to be your only 
portion, and chifest good ; giving up yourself and yours unto his use, and 
service, in the sincerity and uprightness of your hearts ; you do promise by 
the assistance of Divine Grace, to walk in His fear, according to the rule of 
worship and manners towards God and men, all your days, as He shall 
reveal His mind to you oat of His holy word and truth ; farther you do by 
your own choice and act, (highly esteeming the privileges of God's House 
hold,) yield yourselves, as members of the Church of Christ, before which 
you now stand. Expecting its faithful watch over you ; and you promise 
subjection to the discipline of Christ in it, both corrective and directive, 
while God shall continue you members of it ; also promising all love and 
watchfulness over your fellow members, you do resolve to discharge all 
your duties both to God and men, Christ by His grace assisting you. * 

Having given their assent to this covenant^ 
and confession of faith, Mr. Cobbet, in the name 
of the Council, declares them to be a regular 
church of Christ, in fellowship with all sister 
churches. 

* Mr. Pickering, successor to Mr. Wise, says in his Eecord, that Mr- 
Wise's son, Eev. Jeremiah Wise of Berwick, Me. handed him this covenant, 
as the original covenant of this church. 



130 

The ordination services immediately follows. 
Judging from the usuage, which has come down 
to us from our fathers, we may naturally suppose 
that these services were performed by the follow- 
ing'persons. Introductory prayer, Mr. Winbom ; 
prayer before the sermon, Mr. Shepard ; sermon, 
Mr. Hubbard ; Ordaining prayer, Mr. Emerson ; 
charge to the pastor, Mr. Cobbet ; Right hand of 
fellowship, Mr. Payson ; concluding prayer, Mr. 
Gerrish ; benediction by the pastor. The ser- 
vices close sufficiently early to allow all to partake 
of the hospitalities of dinner, and ride to their 
several homes before sunset. Thus was organized 
the first church and parish in this place, which 
took the name of " the second church and parish 
in Ipswich." Soon after its organization, the 
church chose John Burnham, and Thomas Low, 
for Deacons. 

Training Day. 

The jealousy, and hostility of the Indians made 
it necessary for our ancestors to be in constant 
preparation to defend themselves. As early as 
1634, it was ordered that every trained soldier, 
pikeman, and others be equipped for service. 

Training was to be eight times in the year ; 
lads from ten to sixteen formed platoons by them- 
selves, armed with small guns, half pikes, or bows 
and arrows; and boys under ten, who on training 
days came to look on, were formed into a pla- 



131 

toon and drilled by some officer appointed for 
the purpose by the Captain. This gave to them 
a courage and hardihood which accounts for 
some remarkable feats performed by children. 
One in particular has come down to us from old- 
en time by tradition. The scene is in the edge 
of the woods where the late Asa Burnham resided; 
a lad by the name of Burnham, about ten years 
old, was walking in the woods, and came suddenly 
upon two cubs. He amused himself with them for 
a few moments ; when to his terror he saw the 
old bear coming fiercely upon him with a wide 
yawning mouth. He instantly seized a pine knot, 
which lay near him, and as she came up, thrust it 
with all his might down her throat, and then ran 
for the house ; but it was enough, she could not 
follow him. 

When his father came out with his gun, he 
found her in the struggles of death. The jagged 
edges of the kot caused it to stick fast, till she 
was completely choked. 

But we will go upon the common, and see the 
soldiers upon parade. It is the first training day 
ever witnessed in Chebacco, (1683.) Previous to 
this all able to bear arms, were obliged to travel 
to the centre of the town, with all their accoutre- 
ments, eight times in a year, for a military muster. 
But Chebacco has now become the second Parish 
in Ipswich, with a minister settled among them, 



132 



and they must have a miUtary company for their 
honor, and defence ^ Lieutenant John Andrews 
is commander of the company, William Goodhue 
Ensign, Samuel Ingalls, Corporal, and Thomas 
Yarney, Sergeant. Early in the morning Ser- 
geant Varney, with the drummer and fifer, are 
seen traversing the place, reminding all by beat 
of drum to assemble on the ground according to 
previous notice. " The spirit stirring drum, and 
the ear piercing fife," raise up the buoyant spirits 
of the young, who anticipate a large share of 
pleasure on this day of parade. But the older 
men, aware of the dangers of war, especially of 
the insidious, and bloody assults of the Indian, 
cannot but look grave, though it be training day. 
The hour of muster is come. They are formed into 
a line 64 in number. At the end of the line on the 
left is the platoon of boys from ten to sixteen, 
and still farther on, those under ten. The roll is 
called with loud and measured tones, and answered 
by the no less solemn and significant, " here." 

You are particularly struck with the appearance 
of the officers, as they stand out in front of the line. 
Lieut. Andrews, in the military style of the day, 
is dressed in red small clothes, and red stockings, 
with a profusion of gold lace upon his three cor- 
nered hat. 

You look upon the long line of men, and see 



133 



countenances of steady courage, and manly sense, 
with bodies of great muscular strength : their 
dress is not perfectly uniform, yet they have all 
deerskin small clothes, and blue stockings, with 
coats of good homespun cloth, spun and woven 
by their wives, and daughters. The platoon of 
boys, with wigs encircling their rosy cheeks, and 
small clothes buckled at their knees, with long 
stockings, and broad buckles upon their shoes, 
appear like men in miniature. 

As fire arms are scarce, only about two thirds 
of the company have muskets, the rest have pikes, 
and the pikemen are by law dressed with head 
pieces and corselets. Bullets too are scarce, and 
smooth stones fitted to the bore of the gun, are 
substituted for them. On the left, beyond the 
boys, is a group of Indians with their squaws, and 
papooses, looking on with much curiosity, and 
earnestness ; they eye the scene with a keen and 
jealous look ; often curling the lip with contempt 
at seeing the English boy handling the crossbow, 
which, however, is suddenly changed to fear 
when the white men's guns all speak together. 

It was, with the blessing of God, the English- 
man's gun of which the Indian had not learned 
the use, nor obtained possession, which saved 
them from the deadly massacre of the tomahawk. 
But, see, while we are moralizing the whole com- 
12 



134 

pany is m motion ; they ar .marching and coun- 
ter marching, with a quick step in accordance 
with the music. All the spectators are in motion 
following them round, back and forth, with exhil- 
irated feelings, inspired by martial sounds ; even 
the half naked Indian children feel the inspira- 
tion, and set their little feet in motion to keep 
time with the drum. Presently the soldiery are 
on their way to the North end, closely followed 
by all the lookers on ; they halt in front of the 
meeting house, and perform various evolutions ; 
they proceed to the house of the pastor and 
offer the customary tokens of military respect 
By the time they reach the common again, it is 
high noon ; they ground their arms, and have a 
recess for two hours, to visit their homes for din- 
ner. In the afternoon all are together again, 
each in his place, ready to take arms at the word 
of command. Most of the aged men, and nearly 
all the women, old and young, have come out to 
witness the first training. 

Mr. Wise is present, full of patriotic emotions, 
and appreciating fully the importance of the day, 
as one of preparation to defend their country, and 
their firesides from the deadly foe. Wars, and ru- 
mors of wars, are all around ; this saddens the 
hearts of fathers and mothers, as they look upon 
their sons, and think of their liability to be called 



135 



to the battle ground. But the regimentals and 
the music, and the waving banner, and the vari- 
ety of involutions and evolutions banish all sad- 
ness from the hearts of the young, and they think 
of nothing but the holiday scene before them, 
and associate with training day only bright ideas 
and joyous emotions. The afternoon is diligent- 
ly spent by the trainers in their various military 
exercises, and laboriously enjoyed by all the spec- 
tators ; before night they are dismissed and retire. 

The constable with his long black staff tipped 
with brass, is on the alert in accordance with his 
oath of office, to see that none loiter behind for 
any evil practice, but that all may find an early 
home, and an early bed. 

The latter part of this century the inhabitants 
of New England generally experienced much 
alarm, and suffering, from the bloody assaults of 
the Indians, who were instigated to these mur- 
derous attacks by the Canadian French. It was 
therefore deemed desirable to carry the war into 
the French dominions ; and an expedition was fit- 
ted out for that purpose under the command of Sir 
William Phips. He sailed in August 1690, with 
a fleet of thirty two sail, and arrived before Que- 
bec in the following October. But owing to 
several unpropitious circumstances, the expedi- 
tion failed, and in November, the troops arrived 



136 



in Boston. " The expedition involved the govern- 
ment in a heavy debt ; a thousand men perished, 
and a general gloom spread through the country." 

The Indians continued their depredations, and 
butcheries for several years, exhausting the re- 
sources of the Colonists, and depressing their 
spirits. The inhabitants of this town were often 
called on to defend their neighbors at the East- 
ward, and nearer home, during this destructive 
Indian war. 

The town of Amesbury was assaulted, and 
before the enemy could be met, three persons 
were killed, and three houses burned. In Row- 
le}^, Byfield Parish, Mr. Goodridge, his wife, and 
two of his daughters were killed ; he was shot 
while praying in his family. Another daughter 
was taken captive, but redeemed the next year, 
at the expense of the Province. She lived eighty- 
two years after, and died in Beverly, 1774, aged 
eighty nine. Her name was Deborah Duty. ^ 

It is pleasing to reflect that our forefathers 
made no aggressive wars. They treated the 
Indians kindly, buying their lands of them at a 
reasonable, and fair price, and using every effort 
to civilize and christianize them. It was not till, 
without provocation, they sought to destroy them 
with their wives and little ones, that they took 

*Hist N. E. 



137 



arms in their own defence, and were compelled 
to use them, till their savage foes were nearly all 
destroyed, or driven back into the interior ol the 
country. 

Independence Declared, 1687. 

On the death of Charles II., James II. ascended 
the throne. Under his reign. Sir Edmund Andros 
was appointed Governor of all the New England 
Colonies. 

In 1687, he caused a tax to be levied upon the 
people of this colony of Id. on £ 1, which was a vio- 
lation of their charter rights, and their rights as 
Englishmen, not to be taxed without their con- 
sent in a Legislative Assembly of Parliament. 

The minister of this place, feeling that the 
liberties of the country were in danger, went 
with two of his parishioners, John Andrews, 
senior, and William Goodhue, to the centre of 
the town, to confer with friends there on the sub- 
ject. A meeting for consultation was held at the 
house of John Appleton, who lived it is said, not 
far from where the Eailroad Depot now is. At 
that meeting, after much patriotic discourse flow- 
ing from hearts glowing with the flame of liberty, 
it was determined that it was not the duty of 
the town to aid in assessing, and collecting this 
illegal and unconstitutional tax. 

In a general town meeting the next day, Aug. 
12^ 



188 



23; which had been called for this purpose, re- 
marks were freely made to this effect by several, 
and Mr. Wise in particular, made a bold, and im- 
pressive speech, in which he urged his townsmen 
to stand to their privileges, for they had a good 
God and a good King to protect them. 

We have no record of this speech ; but with 
his sentiments and language before us in his 
printed work on the liberty of the churches, we 
may well suppose that he spoke in substance as 
follows : 

Mr. Moderator, 

The question before us is one of 
the deepest concern to us all, involving our 
dearest rights and privileges ; it is not a mere 
question of property, whether we will pay the 
amount of tax levied upon us by his Majesty's 
servant, the Governor of this Province, but 
whether we will surrender the right so dear to 
every Englishman's heart, and so essential to his 
civil freedom, that of levying our own taxes, and 
controlling our own means of subsistence. 

This right is inherent in the British Constitu- 
tion, and is guaranteed to us by our Provincial 
Charter. It is essential to our civil and religious 
freedom, to our personal safety and welfare, and 
to the security, and tranquility of our firesides. 

For it is plain that if any portion of our pro- 



139 



perty, however small, may be taken from its 
without our consent, then by the same principle, 
the whole of it may be taken, and our persons 
and families be rendered penniless, and houseless, 
and subjected to the most abject and cruel servi- 
tude. Thus reduced to a state of vassalage, we 
subsist wholly by the clemency of the despot, and 
may be destroyed at any moment of arbitrary 
caprice or displeasure. Need I say. Sir, that such 
an assumption of power would not be tolerated 
for a day, no, not for a moment, in our father land ? 
Is not the principle that taxation and represen- 
tation go together, as familiar there as household 
words ? Has it not been argued, and demonstra- 
ted in letters of blood, that not the house of 
Lords, nor the Monarch upon the throne, but the 
Commoners only, the real agents of the people, can 
impose taxes ? Have we lost this inestimable 
privilege by being at a greater distance from 
Parliament than some of our brethren ? Are we 
not Englishmen still, living under the royal gov- 
ernment, and entitled to all the privileges and 
immunities of British subjects? And can we 
then tamely surrender these rights, by the pay- 
ment of this illegal and unconstitutional tax^ 
thus admitting a precedent and a principle so 
destructive of all our liberties ? 

We go sir, for law, and order, and authority ; 



140 



but we insist that by the law of nature, which is 
the law of God, and of right reason, all power 
and all authority in civil matters, have their origin 
wholly with the people. In their natural state 
every man his is own master, and protector ; and 
if he could secure his own welfare, and safety 
with equal efficiency single handed, it would be 
folly for him to sacrifice any portion of his natu- 
ral liberty, in which he is his own king and 
councilor. But [this not being possible, he enters 
a civil community, the chief end of which is that 
those thus associated, may be secured against 
the injuries, to which they are liable from their 
fellow men. This end is best answered by a 
government substantially democratic; in which 
the people have a voice in all that concerns their 
safety, liberty, and property. 

Such a government, it is said, is the British 
empire ; a limited monarchy based upon a noble 
and efficient democracy ; w^here the concurrence 
of the Lords, and Commons in making and re- 
pealing all statutes or acts of Paliament is neces- 
sary ; and thereby hath the main advantages of an 
aristocracy, and of a democracy both, and yet 
free from the disadvantages of either. Such a 
monarchy, as by most admirable temperament, 
affords very much to the industry, liberty and 
happiness of the subjects, and reserves enough 



141 



for the majesty and prerogative of any King, who 
will own his people as subjects, not as slaves. 
All this we would fain believe true of the British 
Constitution ; and yet we look back upon the 
republics of Greece, and see souie very desirable 
principles of liberty^ which though they failed 
under paganism, we are confident may be sus- 
tained, and carried out under the conservative 
influence of Christianity. Cf the Athenian 
Commonwealth, Plato writes, ^^The original of 
of our government was taken from the equality 
of our race. Other states there are, composed of 
different blood and unequal lines ; the conse- 
quence of this is tyrannical or Oligarchical sway, 
nnder which men live in such a manner, as to 
esteem themselves partly lords and partly slaves. 
But we, being all born brethren of the same 
mother, do not look upon ourselves as standing 
in so hard a relation, as that of lords and slaves. 
The purity of our descent inclines us to keep up 
the purity of our laws, and to yield the preced- 
ency only to superior virtue." 

It seems manifestthat most civil commu- 
nities arose at first from the union of fami- 
lies, nearly allied in race and blood. And 
though ancient story makes frequent men- 
tion of Kings, yet it appears that most of 
them were such as had an influence in per- 
suading rather than a power of commanding. 



142 



So Justin describes the kind of government as 
the most ancient, which Aristotle styles, heroic ; 
which is no ways inconsistent with a democratic 
state. I am aware, Sir, that it will be said that 
in such reasoning, and remarks, we are holding 
forth the languag of sedition, and rebellion against 
the powers that be. But we disclaim all such 
intention ; we hold ourselves loyal subjects of a 
government, which is itself regulated by the con- 
stitution and laws of the land. And it has been 
well said, that where the laws of the land are the 
measure, both of the sovereign's commands, and 
the people's obedience, the one cannot invade 
what by concessions and stipulations is granted to 
the other ; nor the other deprive them of their 
lawful and determined rights. The prince there- 
fore, or magistrate who strives to subvert the fun- 
damental laws of the country, is in reality the trai- 
tor, and not the people, who endeavor to defend 
and preserve their own laws and liberties. 

It is most apparent, through the whole minis- 
try of the world, that it is the duty of all public 
officers to administer according to the plain rules 
of the public state, and not by their own fancy, 
or Avills. And so in this case, the chief ruling 
officer is obliged to lead the government accord- 
ing to its plain and settled principles, and not to 
hesitate or vary to suit his own convenience, or 



143 



wishes. It is the saying of those who are skilled 
in the law, Bex in regno siio superiores habet, Deiim 
et Legem. The king has in his realm two super- 
iors, GOD, and the LAW. All the nobles and 
great ministers of the kingdom must look upon 
the law as the watchful eye of some dire divinity, 
restraining them from all deviations and violations. 
All Englishmen live and die by the law, — the 
law of their own making. 

The English government is a charter party, 
settled by mutual compact between persons of all 
degrees in the nation, and no man must start 
from it but at his peril. Englishmen hate an 
arbitrary power, politically considered, as they 
hate the wicked one. Through immemorial 
ages they have been the owners of very fair en- 
franchisements, and liberties ; and the sense, fa- 
vor, and high esteem of them, as it were extra- 
duce transmitted with the elemental materials of 
their essence, from generation to generation, and 
so ingenate and mixed with their frame, that no 
artifice, craft, or force, can root it out. Naturam 
expellas furca, licet usque reciirrit. ^ 

And though many of their incautelous princes 
have endeavored to null all their charter rights 
and immunities, and aggrandize themselves in 
the serene state of the subjects, by setting up 

*You may drive out nature with violence, but she is sure to return. 



144 



their own will for the great standard of govern- 
ment over the nation ; jet they have all 
along paid dear for their attempts, both in 
the injury of the nation, and in interrupt- 
ing the increase of their own grandeur, and 
their foreign settlements and conquests. On 
the first appearance of this monster Tyranny, — 
upon the holding up of a finger, or upon the least 
signal given, — on goes the whole nation upon 
the Hydra. The very name of an arbitrary 
government, is ready to put an Englishman's 
blood into a fermentation. But when it actually 
comes in person, and shakes its whip over their 
ears, and tells them it is their master ; it makes 
them stark mad ; and being of a mimical genius, 
and inclined to follow the court mode they turn 
arbitrary too. Some writers who have observed 
the governments, and humors of nations, thus 
distinguish the English. The king of Spain is the 
king of men. The king of France the king of 
asses; and the king of England the king of 
devils ; for the English can never be bridled and 
rid by an arbitrary prince. 

We trust, sir, that in this province we shall 
prove true to the blood that flows in our veins ; 
true to our country, and to our God. We may 
have to suffer by refusing to pay this unconstitu- 
tional tax ; but we have a good God and a good 



145 



king, and shall do well to stand to our privileges 
at all hazards. We shall suffer more by a servile 
compliance with so unjust a demand, than we can 
by a manly refusal. We shall in that case inflict 
a blow upon our rights and liberties, which may 
prove mortal. In the alternative of slavery or 
death, freemen cannot hesitate. If we must fixll, 
let it be by the hand of tyranny, and not by any 
act of our own. Let us die as martyrs in a glo- 
rious cause and not as guilty self-murderers. 

I doubt not. Sir, that when the vote is tried, 
we shall all be of one heart, and one mind, not to 
surrender our rights. In this way we shall obey 
God, and honor the king. 

As the above is chiefly in Mr. Wise's own 
w^ords the reader may consider it as a specimen 
of his mode of reasoning, and style of writing on 
the great subject of civil and religious freedom. 
He was then 36 years of age, combining the fire 
of youth with the firmness and wisdom of man- 
hood. 

A report of Mr. Wise's doings, and of the ac- 
tion of the town was made to the Governor, and 
the consequence was that he, and ^ve others^ 
John Andrews, Wm. Goodhue, Eobert KinsmaUj, 
John Appleton, and Thomas French, were arrest- 
ed and committed to jail in Boston, being denied 
the privilege of giving bonds for their appear- 
13 



146 



ance in court. They were all found guilty of con- 
tempt and high misdemeanor, and kept in prison 
21 days longer, before sentence was passed. But we 
will let Mr. Wise tell the story in his own words. 
'^ We, John Wise, John Andrews, sen., Robert 
Kinsman, Wm. Goodhue, jr., all of Ipswich, about 
22nd of August, 1687, were, with several princL 
pal inhabitants of Ipswich, met at Mr. John Ap- 
pleton's and there discoursed and concluded, that 
it was not the town's duty any way to assist that 
ill method of raising money without a General 
Assembly, which was generally intended by 
above said Sir Edmund, and his Council, as wit- 
ness a late act issued out by them for such a pur- 
pose. 

The next day in a general town meeting of 
the inhabitants of Ipswich, we the above named 
J. Wise, J. Andrews, E. Kinsman, W. Goodhue 
with the rest of the town, there met, (none con- 
tradicting) and gave our assent to the vote then 
made. 

The ground of our trouble, our crime, was the 
copy transmitted to the Council, viz : " At a legal 
towm-meeting, Aug. 23, assembled by virtue of an 
order from John Usher, Esq., for choosing a com- 
missioner to join with the Selectmen to assess the 
inhabitants according to an act of His Excellency 



147 



the Governor, and Council, for laying of rates. 
The town then considering that this act doth in- 
fringe their liberty, as free English subjects of 
His Majesty, by interfering with the Statute 
Laws of the land, by which it was enacted, that 
no taxes should be levied upon the subjects with- 
out the consent of an Assembly, chosen by the 
freeholders for assessing of the same, they do 
therefore vote that they are not willing to chose 
a commissioner for such an end, without said 
privilege, and, moreover, consent not, that the 
Selectmen do proceed to lay any such rate, until 
it be appointed by a General Assembly, concur- 
ring with Governor and Council." 

We, the complainants, with Mr. John Appleton 
and Thomas French, all of Ipswich, were brought 
to answer for the said vote out of our own county 
thirty or forty miles into Suffolk and in Boston, 
kept in jail for contempt and high misdemeanor, 
as our mittimus specifies, and upon demand, de- 
nied the privilege oViaheas corpus, and from prison 
overruled to answer at a Court of Oyer and Ter- 
miner in Boston, Our Judges were Joseph Dud- 
ley of Roxbury, Stoughton of Dorchester, John 
Usher of Boston, and Edward Randolph. He that 
officiates as Clerk and Attorney in the case, is 
George Farwell. The Jurors only twelve, and 
most of them (as is said) non-freeholders of any 



148 



land in the colony, some of them strangers and 
foreigners, gathered up (as we suppose) to serve 
the present turn. In our defence was pleaded 
the repeal of the Law of assessment upon the 
place ; also the Magna Charta of England, and 
the Statute Laws, that secure the subject's prop- 
erties and estates, &c. To which was replied 
by one of the judges, the rest by silence assent- 
ing, that we must not think the Laws of England 
follow us to the ends of the earth, or whither we 
went. 

And the same person (J. Wise abovesaid testi- 
fies) declared in open council, upon examination 
of said Wise, " Mr. Wise, you have no more priv- 
ileges left yon, than not to be sold as slaves," and 
no man in Council contradicted. By such LaAvs 
our trial and trouble began and ended. Mr. 
Dudley, aforesaid Chief Judge, to close up a de- 
bate and trial, trims up a speech that pleased 
himself (as we suppose) more than the people. 
Among many other remarkable passages to this 
purpose, he bespeaks the jury's obedience, who 
(we suppose) were very well preinclined, viz : ^I 
am glad,' says he, there be so many worthy gentle- 
men of the jury so capable to do the king's ser- 
vice, and we expect a good verdict from you, 
seeing the matter hath been so sufficiently proved 
aurainst the criminals. 



149 



'• Note. The evidence in the case, as to the sub- 
stance of it, was, that we too boldly endeavored to 
persuade ourselves we were Englishmen and under 
privileges, and that we were, all six of us aforesaid, at 
the town-meeting of Ipswich aforesaid, and, as the 
witness supposed, we assented to the aforesaid vote, 
and, also, that John Wise made a speech at the same 
time, and said that we had a good God and a good 
King, and should do well to stand to our privileges. 

The jury return us all six guilty, being all in- 
volved in the same information. We were re- 
manded from verdict to prison, and there kept 
one and twenty days for judgment. There, 
with Mr. Dudley's approbation, as Judge Stough- 
ton said, this sentence was passed, viz : John 
Wise suspended from the ministerial function, 
fine d£50, pay cost, £1,000 bond ; John Appleton, 
not to bear office, fine £50, pay cost, £1,000 
bond ; John Andrews, not to bear office, fine 
£30, pay cost, £500 bond ; Robert Kinsman, 
not to bear office, fine £20, pay cost, £500 bond ; 
Wm. Goodhue the same ; Thomas French not to 
bear office, fine £15, pay cost, £500 bond. 
These bonds were for good behavior one year. 
We judge the total charges for one case and 
trial under one single information, involving us 
six men, above said, in expense of time and mo- 
neys of us and our relations for our necessary 
succor and support, to amount to more, but no 
13^ 



150 



less, than £400, money. Too tedious to illustrate 
more at this time, and so we conclude." ^ The 
town afterwards made up the loss which these 
persons had sustained. 

After the expulsion of James from England 
and the introduction of William and Mary to the 
throne, Andros was put down by the people of 
Boston, and sent over to England. 

Before a new Governor arrived, Mr. Wise and 
Nehemiah Jewett were chosen by Ipswich to 
meet in Boston with the representatives of the 
other towns to consult with the Council about 
the public affairs of the Colony. 

Some time after Mr. Wise brought an action 
against Chief Justice Dudley for denying him 
the privileges of the habeas corpus act, and recov- 
ered damages. 

Witchcraft. 
1692, June 30th, Elizabeth How of West 
Ipswich, was tried at Salem for witchcraft, and 
condemned. She was executed July 19th, on 
Gallows Hill in that town. John Proctor, who, 
with his family, had removed from this place to 
Salem Village, (N. Danvers) was tried for the 
same crime, condemned and executed. A peti- 
tion for his reprieve was sent from this town^ 

* The Revolution in New England, justified, as quoted by Felt, 



151 



signed by thirty two of his former neighbors, tes- 
tifying to the excellence of his character ; but it 
availed nothing. His wife Elizabeth, was first 
accused ; and it was while he was attending her 
in court, that her accusers cried out against him. 
She was found guilty and condemned ; but owing 
to her situation, her execution was deferred, and 
she thus escaped an ignominious death. 

These facts lead us to a contemplation of one 
of the most remarkable delusions found on the 
page of history. 

It commenced in the family of Mr. Paris, pas- 
tor of the church in North Danvers, and from 
that Village extended, more or less, to some other 
towns. 

A daughter and a niece of Mr. P. one 9, the 
other 11 years of age, had been for some time 
under the care of the physician of the place. 
Not succeeding in curing them, he said, either 
carelessly or seriously, that they were under an 
evil hand, meaning that they were bewitched. 
An Indian servant and his wife, in the family, 
on hearing this, sought by their incantations to 
find out the witch, that was troubling the children. 
The children claiming for themselves the honor of 
the discovery, accused the Indian woman of afflict- 
ing them. Soon other children in the neighbor- 
hood complained of being bewitched, and accused 



152 



individuals of afflicting and tormenting them. 
They would see them in the room with them, 
when others present could not. Whenever the 
accused were brought into their presence they 
would swoon away, or fall into fits ; and when 
the accused were required to touch them, their 
touch immediately restored them. 

This was sufficient evidence to the bystanders 
that they were under an evil influence, and that 
the accused did exercise this power over them, 
and were therefore worthy of death. How could 
they think otherwise, when they saw with their 
own eyes, that their very presence caused the 
afflicted ones to swoon aw^ay, and that their touch 
immediately restored them? Reader, have you 
not seen or heard something similar to this in 
your day ? And when you have seen the oper- 
ator by a mysterious influence, produce wonder- 
ful changes in the person operated upon, have 
you not been ready to think, that it was some- 
thing almost, if not quite supernatural ? If so, 
then you have reasoned somewhat as did your 
ancestors in 1692. And reasoning as they did if 
you had lived in that day, and been a judge or 
juror, would you not have passed sentence of con- 
demnation upon the accused? The only difference 
is, no one at this day pretends to any mysterious 
influence over others to their injury. If he did, 



153 



and the jury should be satisfied that he not only 
possessed, but exercised this injurious power up- 
on others, would they not subject him to punish- 
ment ? 

But would intelligent jurors now be satisfied 
that because an individual looked upon another, 
and he immediately went to sleep, and slept till 
he awaked him by his touch, or volition, there- 
fore, he had him in his power, and was the cause 
of all the distress which he might happen to ex- 
perience in his sleep ? They might say it was a 
mystery, and beyond their comprehension. But 
they surely would not say, that what they could 
not understand furnished evidence of the guilt of 
another. They might say, reasoning from natu- 
ral science, and well authenticated facts, that the 
unnatural state of swooning, and a sort of waking- 
sleep, apparently caused by another, was caused 
by the powerful working of the subjects own 
imag-ination, and so also of his comins; out of this 
state. He (the subject) believed the operator 
could do all this, and the very expectation, or 
imagination, that he was doing it, produced the 
expected effect. 

It is a well authenticated fact, that a surgeon, 
before operating upon a patient, was about to ad- 
minister ether, but concluded be would first see 
what efiect her expectation, and imagination 



154 



would produce upon her system. He held the 
sponge without any ether to her nostrils, and, 
strange to tell, she was put to sleep by it, and 
thrown into the usual state of nervous exalta- 
tion, and experienced almost the same sensations, 
as are produced by ether. 

Now it may properly be said, that what the 
surgeon did was the occasion of her going to sleep, 
but not the cause. The cause, was in herself; in 
the powerful working of her own imagination. 
Keader, be cautious of deciding on what you do 
not understand. Suspend judgment respecting 
all such seeming mysteries, and wait for farther 
light. 

This same year, 1692, a series of mysterious 
events occurred at Gloucester, which called for the 
active service of a company of soldiers from this 
town. The people there saw armed Frenchmen, 
and Indians, about their houses, and in their 
fields. They shot at them, and saw them fall ; 
but on coming up to them, they rose and ran off. 
These foreign foes frequently shot at the town's 
people, who heard the bullets whiz by their ears; 
none of the balls however took effect. One man 
heard a gun go off, and the bullet whiz by him. 
He saw that it had cut off a pine bush just by 
him, and lodged in a hemlock tree just beyond 
him. Turning round he saw four men running 



155 



towards him with guns on their shoulders. Can 
there be any doubt that these were real occur- 
rences, when several witnesses testify that they 
saw where the bullet had cut off the bush and 
lodged in the hemlock ? 

They actually cut the bullet out and shewed 
it to their friends. ^ You will say, perhaps, that 
the bush might have been cut off before, and the 
bullet long before lodged in the hemlock. But 
whatever you may say, the people of Gloucester 
were so fully persuaded that they were haunted 
by these mysterious enemies, that the alarm con- 
tinued for three weeks. Two regiments were 
raised, and a detatchment of 60 men from Ips- 
wich, under the command of Major Appleton 
was sent to their relief. And relief speedily 
came ; for as soon as these troops were on the 
ground, and the inhabitants felt safe, all the 
French and Indians left the town. 

Education. The First School. 
Our forefathers, it is well known to all ac- 
quainted with their history, were intelligent, and 
well educated men. They knew therefore how 
to appreciate the importance of a good education 
for their children. But while in a wilderness, 
few and far between, and with scanty means of 

* Newhall's Memorial. 



156 



living, they could not build school-liouses, and 
hire teachers, and if they could have done it, the 
dangers from wild beasts would have rendered it 
hazardous for their children to go, and come from 
school. As late as 1723, wolves were so abund- 
ant and so near the meeting house that parents 
would not suffer their children to go and come 
from worship, without some grown person. The 
education of their children, however, was not 
neglected. They were taught at home to read, 
v/rite, and cipher, and were instructed in the 
great principles of religion, and the principal laws 
of their country. 

And when in 1642, it was found that some 
parents were not faithful in these and other du- 
ties to their children, the Selectmen of the town 
were directed, " To see that children neglected by 
their parents are learned to read, and understand 
the principles of religion, and the capital laws of 
this country, and are engaged in some proper 
employment." 

The same year the Town voted that there 
should be a free school. Cambridge College was 
established in 1639. A few years after this, aid 
was solicited from all the families to support 
charity scholars at this institution, that educated 
men might be raised up for rulers, physicians^ and 
ministers. 



157 



The representatives from the towns, and min- 
isters in their several parishes, were desired by 
the General court to use their influence, that each 
family give to the College at least one peck of 
corn, or a shilling in money. 

1651, a Latin school was begun in this town to 
prepare youth for entering College : And in 
about a half of a century, 38 young men from 
Ipswich were graduated at Cambridge. Eleven 
of them became ministers of the gospel, three of 
them physicians, and the rest served in civil, or 
Judicial capacities. 

Toward the latter part of this century, the in- 
habitants of this part of Ipswich began to think 
of establishing a free school among themselves. 
But such a thing could not be done without con- 
sultation, and general consent. 

A general meeting must therefore be held in 
the meeting house, of all the voters in the parish 
to advise respecting it. 

The minister of the parish is present and a 
goodly number of the parishioners. Mr. Wise is, 
of course, expected to address them on this sub- 
ject, and we may suppose that in substance he 
spake as follows : 

Brethren, and Friends 

We are met this afternoon to advise 
on a subject, which I trust we all feel to be of 
14 



m 



vast importance to our children, to our country, 
and to the church of God. 

What are children, what are men and women, 
without education? Just like the savages that 
we see around us. Of this we have been more 
or less convinced, and have long struggled under 
many difficulties, to give our children what 
schooling we could at home. But you know 
full well the temptation to grow remiss in this 
duty under the pressure of very may domestic 
labors in the house and in the field. Besides 
your children, you well know, cannot make much 
progress in learning their lessons, amidst the many 
interruptions of home. I see before me a few, a 
very few of our aged friends, who had their edu- 
cation in England. They will bear me witness, 
that with all their care, and toil in teaching their 
children, they have not been able to do for them, 
what their fathers in England did for them. And 
is it not equally true that thei?' sons, and their daugh- 
ters have not done as much for their children, as 
was done for them. And will not this downward 
progress inevitably continue, if we keep on in this 
way. The less schooling our children have, the 
less will they appreciate learning, and, of course, 
the less will they be likely to bestow upon their 
children. I know it is the opinion of some that 
you had better continue in, what they call the 



159 



good old way. That if you set up a school here, 
you will have to build a school house, and pay 
the salary of a school master, which will make 
your taxes a heavy burden ; that you have al- 
ready taxes to pay, and some of you an annual 
rent for your farms to support the Latin school in 
the body of the town ; that your children some 
of them, will have a long way to travel to school, 
and that yourselves, or your older sons will have 
to accompany them to keep off the wild beasts. 
But are these difficulties of any importance, com- 
pared with the proper education of your children. 

You have some of you the same difficulties to 
encounter in coming here to worship God on the 
Sabbath, and on lecture day. But still you come , 
and those of you that are farthest off, are usually 
first at meeting. Where there is an object of 
sufficient importance, difficulties vanish. Rest 
assured if you keep on in the old way, things will 
go from bad to worse. Already the number 
among us that neglect the instruction of their 
children has begun alarmingly to increase. 

There is no prospect, in ray judgmnt, of 
effecting any reformation, and securing the pro- 
per instruction of your children, but to have a 
school under the charge of a faithful master. 
Even if all parents were faithful in teaching their 
children at home, still their education would not 



160 



be so complete, as if assembled together in school, 
and passing the whole day in school exercises. 
The presence of one, animates another, and the 
striving of some to excel in well doing, stimulates 
others to the like effort ; so that a collection of 
children, well managed in a school, will I venture 
to say, make double the progress they would 
separately in their houses, with the best care and 
attention. 

I must, therefore, very earnestly exhort you 
to go forward in this good work, and spare no 
pains, nor expense, in giving your children a 
good education. You, and your fathers before 
you, have done what you could to establi.sh a 
grammar school, and a college, that you may 
have well educated ministers, and rulers. But 
of what use is it to have intelligent rulers, if 
the mass of the people are uneducated ? Igno- 
rance is no friend to virtue, or to liberty. It is 
no friend to religion. The most inattentive 
hearers of the word, are usually those of the 
least education. If you would secure virtue, 
piety, liberty, and prosperity to your descend- 
ants, you must liberally patronise the cause of 
education." 

In this earnest manner, and with many other 
words did he testify and exhort, saying, "save 
your children from ignorance, infidelity and 



161 



Others present, expressed their minds on the 
subject : a few doubtingly, and discouragingly ; 
but the most part with resolution and zeal, in 
favor of an onward course. The result was, the 
choice of a committee to hire a teacher, and 
provide suitable accommodations for a school. 

This committee made choice of Nathaniel 
Rust, Jr., w^ho opened his school in June, 1695, 
and taught through the summer with such ac- 
ceptance, that the next summer they invited 
him to settle with them, as their school teacher. 
This invitation he accepted, and taught here 
several years. The town gave six acres of pas- 
ture for the benefit of the school, and one 
quarter of an acre to Mr. Eust, to set his house 
on. The house which he then built, is the 
same, as to most of the timbers, with that now 
owned by Wm. H. Mears. It was remodelled 
and enlarged about 60 years since. The school 
pasture was on the north and west, of Mr. 
Mear's land, and became merged in the old par- 
sonage pasture. The school was probably taught 
in a room in Mr. Rust's house, as no school house 
was built till the beginning of the next century. 

1694. Nov. 5. Died, Deacon John Burnham, 
the ancestor of the Burnhams in this place, and 
one of the first deacons of the church here. 

Previous to his death, the same year, a com- 
14^ 



162 



mittee, empowered by the town to settle dis- 
putes as to the boundaries of lands, met in this 
place. A report was spread^ that Deacon Burn- 
ham had encroached on the commoner's land. 
But the committee, so far from finding this to 
be true, found that the bounds had never been 
determined, on that side of Deacon Burnham's 
farm ; which was the south-west side, near to 
the present house of Elias Andrews, sen. They, 
therefore, after due consideration, and consulta- 
tion with the neighbors, and with Deacon Burn- 
ham's son John, to whom he referred the whole 
matter, determined, and settled the boundaries 
as in the following document. 

JoJm Burnham's Deed to he entered into Record, August 
13, 1694. 

We the Committee Irapowered to look after Incroachments, and 
to Settle the bounds where they prove not Settled, being informed 
that Deacon John Burnham, senr., had Incroached of the Town's 
Common Land, on the Southwesterly thereof; between his Land 
and the New Pasture Land, so called. We having been upon the 
place formerly, and examined the matter ; and finding the bounds 
uncertainly Settled, Discoursed with the said Deacon Burnham, he 
having committed all into the hands of his son, John Burnham, 
Consenting to what agreement should be made between him and us ; 
he the said John Burnham paying the charge of the Committee. 

We have thus settled his Bounds, beginning at the head of the 
Creek, called Clark's creek, near Joseph Andrews, his house, and 
run by the Instrument on the Course of 58 degrees eastwardly 
from the South, by the Circumferentor without variation, and 
marked by a white oke tree within the fence near the said Creek, 
and so, on that Course, Cross the field, to a small pine tree, on the 
brow of a hill within the Inclosed Land ; then further to a white 
oke tree on the hill without the fence ; then a Small Walnut tree, 
then further on the same Course to a hollow oke Just by the Kode 
that Leads to Gloster, then further to a white oak tree within two 



163 



rods of Gloster Line, and further to Gloster Line to a white oke, 
being a bound tree, marked with the marking Iron. All which 
said trees are marked for his bounds, he bordering all the way 
upon the New Pasture Land, from the said Creek onwards, about 
one hundred ^nd twenty-five Rods to a white oke tree, marked ibr 
the corner of said Pasture Land, now belonging to Mr. John Cogs- 
well, and the other two rods onward, bordering upon the land re- 
served by Ipswich men, Lying between the land of the New Pas- 
ture and Gloster Line, which said Bounds, as by the marked trees, 
we settle for his Bounds, and by Consent of the parties concerned, 
viz. Mr. John Cogswell for himself, and we in behalf of, and with 
the power of the inhabitants of Ipswich. To have and to hold the 
said Bounds, for his Bounds. 

EoADS AND Bridges. 

As at the beginning, there was first a ferry 
for crossing the river near the present dwelling 
of Adam Boyd, which continued till 1666, and 
was then superceded by a horse bridge, so to- 
ward the close of this century, there was first a 
ferry for crossing where the mills now are, and 
then in 1700, a bridge was built. There was, 
doubtless, when the ferry was in operation, some 
kind of a road over the marsh to Thompson's 
Island. But when the bridge was built, or soon 
after, the old causeway was probably built. The 
ferriage at the lower ferry, was 2 d. a passenger ; 
at the upper the same for a person, and 4 d. for 
a horse. 

The road from Col. Choate's lane to the pres- 
ent bridge, was no doubt opened at an early 
period, and that gradually, as the convenience of 
settlers required. This road to the river must 



164 



have been opened as early as 1668, when the 
shipyard was laid out. In 1697; a road is or- 
dered through John Cogswell, senior's, farm, (the 
school farm.) This is doubtless the present road 
from Thompson's Island to the lower causeway. 

1699. A road is to be made from Gloucester 
line to John Cogswell's upland. This was to 
meet the preceding road. 1700. — A bridge is 
to be built over Burnham's Creek, the same that 
was called Clark's Creek, to connect the two 
roads above mentioned. 

On the last month of this century, December, 
1700, William Cogswell, son of John Cogswell 
died ^81. He had been a very active, and 
highly useful citizen in this place, and his death 
was much lamented. His age, at his decease, 
serves to correct a mistake in Felt's History, and 
in the address at the opening of our new ceme- 
tery, in respect to the age of his father. If the 
son was 81 in 1700, then the father must have 
been about 72 in 1669, as a very few figures 
will show. 

We have now reviewed the principal events 
and transactions relating to our ancestors in this 
place, from their settlement here, to the close of 
the 17th century. We have seen something of 
their trials, and sufferings, their energy and 
enterprise, their mode of living, and daily pur- 



165 



suits ; their regard for the Bible and the Sab- 
bath ; their Jove for the worship of God ; their 
obedience to his commands ; and their regard 
for the best welfare of all among them. 

If, in glancing at their civil regulations, we 
have been disposed to smile at some of them, as 
too particular, and interfering too much with 
the personal concerns, tastes and habits of pri- 
vate life, we must remember that they are not 
to be judged of, in these respects, by our modern 
views of civil, or national affixirs. In the in- 
fancy of their settlements, they resembled more 
one large family, with several branches on the 
same plantation, than a state or a nation. And 
in their flimily state, their laws and regulations 
would, of course, resemble those, which are adopt- 
ed in every well regulated family, rather than 
those, which are enacted by the government of a 
nation. Judged in this light, we see the wisdom 
as well as the benevolence, and watchful care, 
which marked all their social, civil, and ecclesias- 
tical regulations. One thing is certain that 
whatever fault we may find, as to the shape, and 
appearance of the tree, which they planted, or 
their manner of setting it in the ground, it has 
proved a healthy, long-lived tree, and borne the 
best of fruit. And is not the tree to be judged 
by its fruit ? Shall we then be wise in cutting 



166 



down this tree, and planting one of an opposite 
nature ? Shall we not do well to cherish the 
same principles of piety and virtue, which our 
fathers so warmly cherished, and follow in the 
same steps of sobriety, holiness and truth, in 
which they walked, if we would like them, hand 
down the blessings of a well regulated community 
to children's children. 

Happy is that people, that is in such a case;' 
yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord. 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



The following are either now residents in Essex ^ or were horn here. 



No. Copies. 

Benjamin F. Andrews, 

William N. Andrews, 

Moses Andrews, Jr. 

John Andrews, 

William H. Andrews, 

Samuel S. Andrews, 

Charles E. Andrews. 

Israel Andrews, Jr, 

Daniel Andrews, 

Ephraim H Andrews, 

Darius Andrews, 

Aaron C. Andrews, 

Samuel Andrews, 

Asa R. Andrews, 

Joseph Andrews, 2 

Susan E. Andrews, 

Joseph W. Andrews, 

David S. Andrews, 

Franklin Andrews, 

Marv B. Allen, 

W. W. Allen. 

Charles B. Allen, 

Oilman P. Allen, 

Isaac Allen, 2 

John McAsty, 

Warren Andrews, 

Elihu Andrews, 

Miles S. Andrews, 

Nehemiah Brown, Ipswich, 2 

Francis Burnham, 4 

Joel Burnham, 

Zenas Burnham, 

John S. Burnhan, 2 

Humphrey Burnham, 

Luke Burnham, 2 

Mark Burnham, 

W. H. Burnham, 2 

David Burnham, 



Richard Burnham, 
Winthrop Burnham, 
Issachar Burnham, 
D. Atwood Burnham, 
Aaron L. Burnham Esq. 
George W. Burnham, Jr 
Jeremiah Burnham, 
Rufus Burnham, 
Aaron Burnham, 
George F. Burnham, 
Nathan Burnham, 
James H. Burnham, 
Hannah Burnham, 
Jacob Burnham, 2d. 
Charles F. Burnham, 
John J. Burnham, 
Ebenezer Burnham, 
Asa Burnham, 
Daniel Burnham, 
Austin Burnham, 
Samuel Burnham, 
Andrew Burnham. 
Ira Burnham, 
John Burnham, 
Nathan Burnham, 3d. 
Jacob Burnham, 3d. 
Susan E. Burnham, 
Osmond Burnham, 
William F. Burnham, 
Susan Burnham, 
Hervey Burnham, 
Nathaniel Burnham, Jr. 
Nathaniel Burnham, 
Albert S. Burnham, 
Jonathan Burnham, 
Ira O. Burnham, 
Ezra Burnham, 
Obed Burnham, 2d, 



No. Copies. 



No. Copies. 

Talvin Burnham, 

Mary H. Burnham, 

John F. Burnham, 

Obed Burnham, 

Sally Burnham, 

Abraham Burnham, 

John C. Burnham, 

Noah Burnham, 

OniM iimnli; m, 

Zaccheus Burnham, 

J. A. Bradford, Esq. 

Adam Boyd, 

Joel Boyd, 

Henry V. Buskirk, 

Charles W. Brown. 

Hon. David Choate, 5 

Henry C. Cogswell, 2 

Caleb Cogswell, 2 

Francis Cogswell, 

H C.Cogswell, 2 

Benjamin Courtney, 

George Cogswell, 

John Choate, 2 

Joseph Choate, 2 

Lucretia Choate, 4 

Albert Cogswell, 3 

] )hiius Cogswell, 2 

Charles P. Crocket 

Mary Choate, 4 

George C. Claiborne, 

Addison Cogswell, 

John P Choate, 2 

David Choate, Jr. 

Edward P. Crowell, 

Rufus Choate, 

George Choate, M. D. Salem, 1 

George F. Choate, Esq. do. 2 

Francis Choate, do. 3 

Rufus Choate, L. L. D. Boston 20 

John D. Cross, Ipswich, 

Grover Dodge, 3 

Nehemiah Dodge, 2 

James McDonell, 

Angus McDonell, 

Sylvester Dade, 



Charles Dexter, Boston, 

Henry Dunkenson, 

Plii lemon S. Eveleth, 

p]dward Eveleth, 

A. J. Frisbee, 

J. H. Frisbee, 

Charles H. Field, 

E. B. Fuller, 

Thomas Foster, 

Abel Goodhue, 

Jeremiah Goodhue, Jr. 

William J. Gilbert, 

Caleb S. Gage, 

Benjamin Goodhue, 

Francis Goodhue, 

E. K. Goldsmith, 

John Hardy, 

Andrew Howes, 

Charles Howes, 

Luther Hayden, 

Enoch Haskell, 

Caleb Haskell, 

George Haskell^ 

Thomas Haskell, Gloucester, 

Luther D. Haskell, do. 

Samuel Haskell, 

Thomas A. Holmes, 

Henry Hobbs, 

John Horsfield, 

J. W. Johnson. 

Abraham Jones, 

Mary J. Kn owl ton, 

Washington McKenzIe, 

Jacob McKenzie, 

Winthrop Low, 

James O. Low, 

David Lo\v, Jr. 

William Low, 

Warren Low, 

Jonathan Low, 

Nathaniel Loveland, 

J. W. Lufkin, ^ 

Jonathan Lufkin, Jr. 

Zaccheus Lee, 

Jonathan Lufkin, 



No. Copies. 
5 



No. Copi( 



Josiali Lamsou, M. D. 2 


William F. Riggs, 


E. K. Lakeman, Salem, 


E. L. Robinson, 


Gilman Low, Boston, IG 


Jacob K. Roberts, 


John Mears, 2 


Daniel Raymond, 


John Mears, Jr.* 


J. Perkins Spofford, 


David Mears, 


Norman Story, 


Samuel Mears, Jr. 


George Story, 


William Marshall, 2 


Aaron Story, 


Joseph Marshall, 


Adoniram Story, 


William H. ]\Iear?, 


Asa Story, 


William Marshal], Jr. 


Enoch Story, 


Joseph M. Marshall, 


David A. Story, 


Samuel Morse, Jr. 


Charles Story, 


Henry Mears, 


Andrew Story, 


Susan F. Norton, 


Albert Story, 


John G. Nichols, 


Ira Story, 


Daniel Norton, 


Elisha Story, 


Geor<_re Norton, 


Susanna Storv, 


Jolm Perkins, 


W.H.Story,' 


Kev. John Prince, 


David Story, 


David Perkins, 


Susan Story, 


John Pierce, 


Noah Story, 


Ezra Perkins, Esq'r. 


Hcrvey Story, 


Abraham Perkins, 2 


James F. Story, 


1-Ion. Jonathan C. Perkins, Salem, 


Emri Story, 


Lemuel Pearson, Jr. 


George W. Story, 


Daniel Poland, 


Stephen Spragg, 


Harriet E. Proctor, 


W. J. Synett, 


David Preston, Jr. 


Perkins Story, 


Micliael Proctor, 


0. PI. P. Sargent, 


M. B. Perkins, 2 


James Sutherland, 


AVilliam H. Perkins, 


William H. Sargent, 


Edward P. Potter, 


U. G. Spofford, 


William J. Rust, 


Ebenezer Stanwood, 


George Riggs, 


Calvin Whipple, 


Azuby A. Roberts, ' 


James E. Woodman. 



No. Copies. 



J 928 



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